


Warmth

by artisticNutcase



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Affection, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Batterie - Freeform, Battle, Chess, Complete, Conversations, Falling In Love, Fights, Implied Sexual Content, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, M/M, POV First Person, Pie, Requited Love, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticNutcase/pseuds/artisticNutcase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feelings are a strange thing, but it doesn't take the merchant too long to figure them out. The Batter, on the other hand, does not even seem to have any. A so-called relationship starts nonetheless. And where the hell is the puppeteer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fragment 1, Part 1: Alright

When he said yes, it was casual and dry. 

The Batter was a very distant and silent person. He had a difficult time letting anyone be within a five foot radius of himself, let alone touch him. To this day I do not know how I could enjoy the presence of such a being, how I could want his presence so badly. His physical presence that is. The Batter does not speak much, so I am never sure whether he is even paying attention or whether his mind is somewhere else entirely. But if I ask him he assures me he listens, he assures me in his own cold way.

When I first met him, I could not help but notice that he was a contrast to his surroundings. A pure, holy entity in the shape of a single man walking through a land of corruption and danger. A breeze of fresh air in the dark, smokey world. He walked with his head held high in pride and his bat tightly in his hand, ready for battle. Only a few people were able to notice the invisible strings tugging at his limbs, directing him to speak to me. 

And once he did I was his ever present merchant and he was my best customer. Being his only salesman had perks in its own way. I was where he was and was close by when he needed assistance in form of Luck Tickets or a new bat. I do not recall him ever actually buying the former, it seems he picked up enough of them on his violent path. I provided him and his Add-Ons with high quality merchandise before every major battle and I was there to greet him afterward. 

Unfortunately, the desire to be more to him than that awoke inside of me fairly quickly. It was after another short conversation, a normal deal. I gave him a few Jokers in exchange for a few Credits. As he handed the Credits to me the tips of his fingers brushed against mine for a brief second. In my mind, the contact lasted for minutes. And once it stopped I missed it immediately. The Batter then went to be on his merry way, not giving me another glance. I felt my cheeks heat up as I stroked the Credits in my hand. If an Elsen saw me that time he must have thought something was wrong with me, but I do not remember anything beside the Credits in my hand and the heat in my cheeks. The world might have been broken and glued back together in those minutes and I would be none the wiser.

I recovered soon enough, though, and went to the location I was supposed to appear at next. I was not moving at my usual speed, I could not tear my mind away from his touch. I was unsure about what to think or do, I could not even focus on my purpose of collecting Credits. And it was bugging me, to say the least. I did not even know what was happening or why it was happening. And as I was used to knowing everything, since everything was scripted, I was confused at the time. I wish now that the realization had come to me sooner, because once it actually came it was like a bat to the gut. 

After the accidental physical encounter (If it even deserves that name) I began to crave the Batter's presence more and more with each time that I actually caught a glimpse of his pure white uniform. I began to adore his fighting, amongst other things. I watched him happily as he was swinging a newly purchased bat. I observed him gleefully as he was forced to walk to the same places over and over again for the sake of riddle solving. I smiled at him with deepest content as he approached me for another set of Add-On upgrades. But he never saw any of this. He never knew how closely I watched him and I owe this to my trusty mask. It protected my face from unwanted gazes and my gaze from being noticed.

The first buds of realization blossomed within my mind when the Batter stayed in the same room as me while 'equipping' his new tunic. Once he had removed the outdated tunic the room temperature suddenly went up a hundred degrees. I knew I was blushing. I am sure a few beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, hidden by the mask. He had the well-trained body of an athlete and I almost voiced my disapproval when he hid this body with the new tunic. He brought over the old one to sell it back to me and I had a hard time spitting out my usual greeting words after the sight. His face was frozen in the ever-lasting indifference as usual. And I was well aware that my face should have been doing the same. Granted, I smiled a lot and chuckled and made sure he knew how appreciated his customer loyalty was, but to be sweating and blushing and stuttering? I knew that something was wrong. And I had a good idea of what it might be.

But in order to protect the sacred merchant-customer relationship I poured a good amount of denial over the buds of realization. Whenever the obvious truth popped into my head, I found another explanation, another lie to make myself believe that everything would stay the same. Sadly, this truth did not drop in now and then, it never cut me any slack. I was constantly forced to think about the purifying man that was walking the Zones. It was nerve wrecking. I told myself that the Batter was important to me, since we were forced to talk very often and since we saw each other a lot. I said I thought about him, because he was my most valuable customer, this was a lie that I did not have a hard time believing for a few hours. 

I kept pouring denial over my mind, attempting to freeze the omnipresent thoughts. But the buds of realization prospered and broke through my attempts of denying my feelings. Eventually, I stopped every try and attempt to kill the realization. I had to take the punch of having feelings for someone. So I knew. I knew for sure. But I simply could not accept it. It was not scripted to happen. It was impossible for me to do something that was not scripted. But the next time the Batter sought my merchandise he brought acceptance with himself and his pure existence washed away my doubts. 

There never was a stupid man behind the frog mask, only a man that tried to stay within his boundaries and apparent possibilities. I knew about this blooming feeling. It was extremely rare and there was no way to sell it, not even for an infinite amount of Credits. I was aware that this feeling could be beautiful and fulfilling as well as destructive and terrifying. In order to pull the former emotional consequence I was inclined to do something. Confessing was a very prominent option and the one I decided to go with. But this placed my fine butt in front of another problem: How does one explain their red tinted feelings to a person with no emotion, whatsoever? Did he even know about this feeling, or feelings at all for that matter? 

I refused to waste time on wondering about what he might say or worrying about a potential rejection. Doing things like that would only shove my situation into the direction of 'destructive and terrifying'. I came to the conclusion that I would explain everything to him the next time that I saw him. I expected this to be a few hours, but those hours turned into a few days. I was wondering about him, had he died? For good? The idea was painful so I replaced it with others: His puppeteer was absent and he was waiting for them; He was in no need of new items; He had forgotten where I was. 

Waiting for the chance to tell him about the plague of a feeling that was lingering inside of me, anchored deep into my thoughts and desires, was mind numbing. I attempted to make up more excuses for his lack of presence but I had used up all my denial fuel for the next few years. 

I was mad, not at the Batter, but at myself. I had prepared everything. In my head I had gone over the whole procedure of how to confess a million times. I had mentally written down lines and rehearsed them as if I was playing the lead in a romantic play and the Batter was the obvious love interest of said lead. And the audience is more or less quietly rooting for the lead and the love interest to finally pull themselves together and become a couple already. But in this scenario the audience were readers and the love interest remained the same.

After the aforementioned few days had passed the Batter showed up, no explanation for his absence, no apology, nothing. Of course he did not owe me any of that so why would he give it to me? He was standing in front of me, the tall, spectre killing, purifying man in front of the by comparison puny, item selling, waiting merchant. And I noticed in the blink of an eye that I was the kid at the play that forgot his lines in a fit of nervousness. The carefully planned words were wiped from my memory, the scenario was gone. 

The Batter demanded to see the list of my items but my body would not budge, my mouth would not open, I was frozen in place. I was certain that I could feel my heart beating and trying to jump out of my ribcage. 

“Batter...” I said, addressing him. He gave me a questioning expression, obviously not understanding my hesitation. I mouthed the words I wanted to say a few times, exercising my lips behind my mask. “What if I were to tell you... that there is a brand new offer, but you can't purchase it?”

The Batter looked down at me and I could read the confusion on his face. “Its very rare.” I added. He asked about the nature of this item, which made me swallow hard. 

I felt my muscles tense. “It is not an item, Batter. It is more like a correlation with physical interaction and emotional components.” I watched the Batter raise an eyebrow. “Batter, would you like to have a romantic relationship with me?”

The silence that followed my question was torture. He did not say a word, he did not change his expression, just a hint of surprise was in his eyes. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that rejection would at least not come as a surprise. He still remained silent and unmoving so I felt the urge to elaborate. “I have noticed recently that I am more than just accustomed to your presence, to your mannerisms and general being. I need you to be there.” I knew I was sounding corny but there was no other way to explain to him how I felt.

Still expecting complete and utter refusal I was taken by surprise when the man in white nodded his head and muttered “Alright.” to me. This remark was enough to push me into a pool of bliss and I wanted to remain inside of this pool forever, swimming in circles, never getting out. But something was bothering me, still. His expression had not changed. He did not seem happy, relieved, he did not even appear to be content. He was cold as always. I just had to hold onto the little crumb of belief that he was happy on the inside. Or that he had to get used to the idea of being in a relationship with me.

I ignored his apparent indifference and wrapped my arms around his body. My mask still in place I buried my face in his shirt. I took in his scent. As I glanced down I could see the hand holding his bat twitch. I feared for a moment that he was going to attempt to purify me any second. That fear left when I felt his arm around my back, pushing my body closer to his. I felt his head rest on top of mine. The hug was closer to a friendly than a romantic level, but it still sent waves of happiness crushing into me. 

For a moment, the world was warm.


	2. Fragment 1, Part 2: The Grasp

When he grasped my hand, it was cold and firm.

If it had been anyone else who I had confessed to, anyone else who was holding me, I would have kissed them in a heartbeat, kissed their neck, their jawline, their lips, tearing my mask from my face in the process. And I would be lying if I said that I did not want to do exactly that with the Batter. I desired it deeply. And yet, it was not the right time. We were not ready to kiss and he was not ready to see my face yet. So instead of hot passionate kisses, the hug ended in awkward attempts of letting go and continuing to hold on. 

When we were apart again I wondered what he would do next. Or what I would do next, for that matter. This was not like one of those pornographic movies I had... not seen, of course. I did not intend to take him to the storage room now and make him ravish me against the wall. I do not think that there are confessions in those films, anyway. 

The room was silent. The only sound I could hear beside my own breathing was the sound of Elsen working outside in the distance. Surprisingly, the Batter was the one to break the silence. “I must continue purifying now.” With one of the most casual things he could have said. He seemed to turn to the door any second to just leave without another word.

“Mind if I watch?” I chuckled. This was going to be fun. And it would be good for him, too, he could buy upgrades and Tickets whenever he was in need without looking for me first. 

“Go ahead.” He said and I eyed him closely as he nodded and I thought I saw his mouth twitch into a small smile, but it might have been my imagination fooling around. I grabbed my backpack from the floor behind me and swung it over my shoulders. With light steps I hopped over to the door and looked at him. He did not make me wait for long and caught up. 

We walked through empty paths and hallways for a long time. I cannot remember for how long exactly, but it felt like days. I watched the Batter. Everytime a noise reached us his free hand grasped his weapon immediately and he was ready to swing at anything, but nothing ever approached him. The first few times we heard something he hissed at me to stand back if I wanted to be safe so I took a few generous steps away from him. Once it turned out to be nothing I caught up with him again.

My companion made a remark under his breath now and then about where the cursed spectres are hiding or why they were not attacking him as they usually did. The problem was me, I knew that spectres would not come close to me for... reasons I will proceed to explain later. So the spectre hunt was a fruitless endeavor. 

I walked beside him, glancing at him now and then. He did not say a word to me. The distance between us was large, taking into consideration that he had agreed to be in a romantic relationship with me. I was not sure whether he was even aware what the word 'romantic' meant. I brushed that thought out of my head and instead focused on getting a conversation going. 

“Don't you ever get tired of walking around all day, beating spectres with a bat?” I inquired and got an inch closer to him. He glanced at me, I did not know whether he was annoyed or not, but he never said anything about it. 

“No, this is my mission, I must purify everything. I take pride in it.” He moved his free hand to his chest, making a gesture to go with his words. 

“I see.” He really did not care about the violent way he purified things, did he? He continued to walk and removed his hand from his chest. He did not bother to ask me something in return or to elaborate his desire to purify. Another noise echoed through the Zone and the Batter took his stance and I took a few steps backward. Another false alarm. I walked quickly back to my place by his side. “Can you play actual baseball?” I fired another question at him, teasing him a little. Maybe I could learn more about him or maybe he would open up to me about things if I asked enough.

“I recall being quite the excellent batter.” He was not facing me, but he was surely smiling a bit.

I chuckled in response. “What about pitching?”

“I can toss a fairly decent ball. But I have not pitched in a long time.”

I did not need to ask why, it was hard finding anyone who was even capable of understanding the concept of baseball. The Elsen were not stupid, but they would become Burnt very quickly if they got a strike or lost the entire game. “You have to tutor me in baseball sometime. I might reward you with valuable merchandise for your efforts.” I was grinning. 

“I will consider taking that deal.”

There was no point for me in learning how to swing a bat. I had other ways of defending myself or attacking enemies if they were to approach me. But I would not refuse to try out new things, like a new sport. “Excellent.”

After a few more steps I yawned and stretched. “Batter, I think this is pointless. There are no spectres coming out right now and we've been walking for hours. Let's take a break, maybe there will be some later.” 

The Batter stopped walking and looked down at me. His stern gaze intimidated me and I regretted suggesting anything. But instead of lecturing me about how he has to continue purification or telling me to leave if I did not want to be there, he turned again, walked to the closest wall and sat down, resting his back against it. I followed suit immediately, I sat down by his side, close enough to talk to him but with enough distance to avoid physical contact. 

Silence remained for a bit. I observed him and focused on his features. I looked at his closed eyes, his nose and lastly his mouth. His pale lips seemingly disappeared on his white face. Everything about this man was pure. I felt like he was too precious, too important to be touched, although I wished to place my hands on his body, to hold him in a tight embrace and to do so much more. 

“Zacharie.” 

The Batter spoke up and thus tore me out of my thoughts. He said my name and I enjoyed hearing it being formed by his voice and released into the world through his lips. “Yes?” I simply responded.

“Why did you decide to follow me if you could have stayed in a safe place? You are an excellent target for spectres as you are not wielding a weapon.”

“I told you, didn't I? I need to be with you.” I blushed behind my mask and thanked any possible godlike entity that he could not see it.

“You would not cease to exist even if I were to abandon you.” He pointed out, putting on another thick layer of indifference. I wanted to get mad and hit him for only suggesting leaving me behind, but instead I just moved the conversation forward.

“Yes, of course. But you see, Batter, the thing about these feelings which I have tried to describe is that I do not feel as comfortable without your presence as I do with it. If you left me behind I would be hurt in more ways than just the broken customer loyalty.” I hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Why did you accept my proposal if you don't want to be with me?”

He did not answer. I waited and waited but he did not say a word and I refused to ask again. The Batter was a mysterious creature and I doubt that anyone ever really understood him or his choices. So naturally I let him be. I was becoming tired and gazed over at his shoulder longingly. I wanted to lean onto him and take a nice long nap. 

“Do you care about my well-being?” I muttered in a sleepy voice. 

Apparently it was loud enough for him to hear. “Whatever happens happens.”

That response stung. I looked at him. Then I ignored all boundaries of personal space for the sake of my enjoyment and scooted closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel his muscles get tense and his body become stiff upon my touch but I was too tired to think anything of it. 

I cannot say how much time passed, but despite my stiff Batter pillow I had a very relaxing nap. I woke up and blinked a few times, it only took a few seconds for me to realize where I had fallen asleep and to remember the most recent events. 

“You have awoken.”

And a familiar cool voice greeted me. I sat up and looked at him after rubbing my eyes underneath my mask, making sure not to shove it out of its usual place. He looked no different from before. Apparently the spectres had continued their new habit of avoiding us or I probably would have woken up from the sound of battle or the lack of something to rest on. 

I chuckled at him. “Nice job finding out.” He rolled his eyes. And got up before looking down at me. I groaned, not desiring to get up from my spot. I was comfortable only sitting there, doing nothing. But that was obviously not within his plans. He kept looking down at me until I eventually got up and dusted myself off. “Is there any chance that you want to keep moving?” I snickered. 

“Yes. If my partner wants to stay I will not force him to come along.” 

I smiled. “He knows that.” 

We continued on his path of purification. I noticed his free hand swinging lonely beside his body as he walked. I took this moment to examine his hand. His skin was extremely pale, matching the rest of his body. The knuckles poked out from underneath it like hills in an otherwise plain scenery. His fingers were long and slender, but not sickeningly skinny. 

My gaze wandered up his arm, over the shoulder I had rested on, to the face that I desperately wanted to touch. I sighed a little.

He did not really care about my health and I began doubting that he cared about my existence at all. Why did he agree to be in a relationship with me? Did he even know what being in a romantic relationship meant? 

I heard my companion yell something and for a second my mind blurred. A large spectre was heading towards me at an incredible speed. I wanted to reach for my weapon and slay the adversary, but my limbs were numb in shock. 

And then everything happened way too fast.  
In the split of a second I felt someone grasping my hand tightly and tugging with all their might. The hand was cold and firm around mine, but I did not receive much time to think about this hand or the temperature of the hand. I was pulled into someone's body. A tall man's body. The hand quickly let go and instead an entire arm was wrapped around me, shoving me more into the other person.

I looked up at the face of the Batter. His stance and expression showed his readiness for the imminent battle. He used only one arm to swing his bat. This resulted in his movements being far more sloppy than usual, but still precise enough to give the spectre a decent beating. His other arm remained around my body the entire time he was fighting off the fiend. I was dumbfounded and did not know how to react, so I only watched the purifier do his job. I realized that he must have thought of me as the weak and puny merchant in distress who could not even fight his own battles. And only later would he be proven wrong. But for that moment I was alright with my position. 

Once the spectre was defeated the battle ended instantly. And in that same instant the purifier let go off me. 

“Thanks.” I blurted out, it was the only think I could think of saying at the time. 

“It is part of my mission.” He replied plainly and kept on walking, going ahead. 

'Whatever happens happens', huh? What a bold faced lie. I smirked to myself and quickly caught up with him. He took my hand into his. His hand was still cold, but it caused me to heat up. I looked at him in confusion. 

“Just in case.” He explained.

“Just in case what?”

I never received an answer.


	3. Fragment 1, Part 3: A Game of Chess

For the remaining way we walked, the Batter had Omega hover close to me constantly. And for that same way he had his hand tightly around mine. We encountered a few more spectres, which surprised me since not a single one of them had showed themselves for a major part of the path we walked. And because I knew the reason for that, it came as a huge surprise that they were now showing up.

The Batter let go off my hand to swing his bat at the enemies and made sure I was at least a few feet away. Omega defended me from any blows that came into my direction, although it were not many and one might think it was wasting the use of a good Add-On. Once the battle was over my companion collected any items that the spectres had dropped, which were almost always, but not exclusively, Luck Tickets. 

And then he always proceeded to walk over to me, take my hand into his firm grip again and tug me into the direction he decided to go into. We soon reached a door with a lock that demanded a code. We had not come across any number combinations on the way here, neither were there any items close by that might help. 

“Do you know the code?” He turned and asked me with a serious expression.

“No. I don't even know where you are supposed to find it. I didn't see anything on the way here.” My answer, although truthful, felt wrong. I knew the script when I needed to know it so why did I not know how to surpass this obstacle? 

With a deep sigh the Batter examined his surroundings some more before taking a turn and walking back. It was certainly strange. No hints and I did not know how to get past a simple door. The whole situation felt fishy to me. 

I then noticed that I had not seen or sensed the invisible strings for some time. The Player must have been absent for a while now. Whenever that happened the Batter could walk around freely, but most of the time he remained in his own spot and waited for his puppeteer to return. He had a mind of his own but he claimed to need the Player in order to continue his sacred mission. And it appears he was right. I did not understand why he could not go on on his own. Were the clues only visible to the Player? The Batter himself obviously had no trouble fighting and moving around without anyone telling him where to go.

I considered asking him but he was probably aggravated by the fact that he had walked the entire way for nothing. So we walked back. We hardly encountered any spectres so we were able to move fairly quickly. The way was long, though so it took a while to reach the beginning of it again. Hours must have passed, but no one had a clock or watch, not a working one, anyway, so who can say how much time we really spent walking?

I was glad when we eventually arrived at the room that we had left hours earlier. I let go off the Batter's hand and hopped up and sat on the counter. I put my backpack down on the floor in front of me. “So what now?” I swung my feet a little, letting them softly hit against the counter now and then. My companion was obviously in thought so the faint thumping sound of my feet hitting the furniture was the only thing that could be heard for a while, until he began walking around.

I observed the man as he paced up and down in the room, lost in thought. I turned my gaze away and picked up my backpack, still sitting on the counter, I opened it and began to dug around inside, attempting to find one of the few entertaining things I carried around. I paused when I heard the footsteps stop and looked up. He was looking at me. I looked back at him, wondering whether I had done something distracting or weird.

“Yeees?” I asked before continuing to look for items in the backpack.

“I thought you knew for odd reasons what happens and what does not happen on my journey.”

I paused my search again. “So did I. I think we are being off-script for some bizarre reason. Your puppeteer must be confused, as well.”

“The puppeteer is no longer present.”

So my assumption was correct. “Maybe that's why you can't go on?” 

“I have been left like this for a while. You are assuming that I will never complete my mission like this.”

“You said you needed a Player.”

“I do, but I hoped that in case they left I would be assigned to a new one or I would be more capable to continue on my own.” He shook his head in disappointment and leaned onto the counter beside me. I felt bad for him, being this dependent on someone who seemingly lost all interest in him.

“You battled the spectres and found the door on your own. What do you even need the puppeteer for?” I returned my backpack to its spot on the floor.

“It is hard to explain. But without them I cannot, for instance, solve riddles. Some things are only visible for them and are needed to continue. I do not understand why, but this is how it works. Sometimes I will even be capable to see what my puppeteer sees, and can thus solve the problems ahead of me. And battle works better in their presence, too.” 

“So that's why you give them control over your actions.” I noted , voicing my understanding.

“Yes.” The Batter adjusted the cap sitting on his head. “So it appears I am stuck now that they have decided not to return.” 

I hesitated before taking his hand again. “There has got to be a way around it. There almost always is a way to avoid or cheat things like this.” I was not sure about that though. It seems that once the Player was absent, my memory was wiped off the answers, combinations and ways of continuing the mission. This would suggest that anyone else who used to know about the ways to advance was now clueless as well. As the Batter was his own thinking entity, I assumed this memory wiping occurred in order to keep him from advancing on his own, so that he would require the Player. His strings were wrapped tightly around his limbs, after all.

He was looking at me. “I must purify this place.”

I thought he was gonna walk right back out and continue beating spectres into a pulp, but he remained on his spot. His statement was more the one of a toddler wanting his parents to buy him a toy than the one of a man having to fulfill his so-called purpose and go on with his quest.

“Well, you can keep going after spectres and improve your skill and learn more offensive moves.” I shrugged, trying to support him in some way.

“This place will not be pure until I deal with the one bringing the spectres here. I cannot eradicate them otherwise, more and more will come.”

I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. His mission was the only thing on his mind. That was not a surprise for me and yet I wanted him to think about something else until the puppeteer returned. He would be insane by the time he could advance. “You seriously need to get your mind off of that quest for just a few hours. You're not doing yourself any favors by just standing there and waiting and thinking about how you cannot do much right now.”

I let go off his hand. Picking up my backpack and searching for something inside of it once again I continued. “Let's get you distracted.”

“That would not be a desirable condition for me to be in.” 

“Nothing is going to happen anyways, you might as well try to enjoy yourself.”

The Batter sat on the counter beside me and looked into the bag on my lap with a hint of curiosity as I dug through its contents. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”

I grinned and voiced my trademark chuckle that he knew so well by then. “Oh there's all sorts of things we could do. I have... a handheld video game, a deck of cards, a lot of HP and CP replenishing stuff... some clothes, a baseball, a chess board with pieces, a-”

“The chess game.” He interrupted me.

I nodded and with a smile I took out the board and the box with the pieces. I looked around in the room but there were no chairs or a decent table so we had to make do with the floor or the counter. I tossed the backpack onto the floor again and scooted away from the Batter. I put down the board in between us. “I assume you want the white pieces?”

“Correct.”

I opened the box and began putting the black pieces in their places on my side, I held out the box for him so he could do the same with the white pieces on his side. “I also assume you have played this game before?”

“Indeed, I have.”

I smiled and closed the box and put it aside once all the pieces were in their place. “Well, you know what they say, white begins, black wins.” I snickered and from his expression it was apparent that he interpreted that as a challenge. 

“I will purify your pieces.” He took one of his pawns and placed it one spot closer to my pieces. 

I made my move quickly. The game turned out to last for quite a while. I did not know whether the Batter had a lot of chess practice or whom he used to play with. I do know, though, that Pablo and I had had a number of matches in our free time. One would get bored easily after a while and Pablo was a worthy adversary at chess. Sometimes we played with a reward, whether it were a few Credits or something similar from the loser. 

We did not speak much during the game, both of us focusing on its progression and our own individual strategies. Every once in a while one of us would stare at the board for a bit and hesitate before making the next move. When he did this I teased him about being a slowpoke. 

After a while I was down to one rook, my queen, a few pawns, one bishop and my king. He had taken most of my pieces but his situation was no better. He had only two pawns, one bishop, one knight and his king. I had taken his Queen in my last move. I was getting closer and closer to getting a check mate. It was his turn and in one swift movement he eradicated my queen, sacrificing his bishop. I made an annoyed grunt and took his bishop. 

I glanced at the carefully lined up pieces that were standing beside the board as if watching the rest of the game progress and rooting for their own team. The game continued. After a few more minutes and a few more turns I grinned behind my mask as I moved my rook into place, so that my planned out structure showed its effect. “Check mate!” I said before snickering loudly.

The Batter got tense. “What?” He looked at the chess board, eyed each piece individually and then the positioning altogether. I thought he was going to reach for his bat and attempt to purify the board. I wondered for a brief second whether it would become blank if he hit it with his holy weapon. 

He did nothing of the sort though, just leaned back in silence. I believed him to be moping. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. I retrieved the box and put the pieces into their respective compartments within the box. Then I closed it and returned it along with the board to the inside of my backpack. I scooted closer to him on the counter. “Don't be mopey.” I chuckled.

“I am not.”

“Oh yes you are. Look at you mope.” I reached out and poked his cheek, all boundaries of personal space were suddenly gone.

“I said I am not moping.” He smiled the slightest bit as he said this. Did he enjoy the teasing?

“Mopey Batter.” I poked him once more. He attempted lazily to remove my hand from his face. I scooted even closer and leaned into him before wrapping my arms around his torso. 

“No one is moping here.” He wrapped his arms around me. 

I sighed happily. “Sure, sure.” I felt like I just discovered an entirely different side of the holy man. A much more tender one. I cuddled into the embrace.

“'Whatever happens happens.'” I quoted his earlier statement. “Are you sure you meant that?”

“Well this is happening and I do not believe I am attempting to keep it from happening.”

He had a point. “Do me a solid and define 'this' for me.” I looked up at his face.

“The embrace.” No hesitation, no nervousness, just the casual short description of 'this'. Good to know that he still was the Batter.

“So whatever happens you will not try to interfere in the course of action?” I questioned, a smug smile on my hidden face.

The Batter remained silent for a few seconds, looking down at me. “Is that a challenge?”

“Not yet!” I snickered. “But it is something I will certainly keep in mind for later occasions.”

My companion seemed to fear for his future a little bit, so I just cuddled some more, attempting to take his mind off of my previous statement. I knew he was not going to forget it for a while, though.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against him. I unwrapped one of my arms from him and drew little patterns on his chest with my index finger. He did not seem to be bothered by it in the least so I kept doing it.

I muttered three little words very quietly. I made sure that they were quiet enough so that he would not hear them, they might be too much for him.

So I kept those three little words to myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate comments or suggestions~ <3


	4. Fragment 1, Part 4: Bedtime Talk

Days began passing at a quick pace. 

The Batter and I began to bond over different things. We played a couple of games together in order to kill some time, went spectre hunting together, or did similar activities. Now and then he would go to battle on his own and I would do merchant business. Such as checking the inventory. At some point this activity became sort of boring, because the inventory did not really change due to the lack of customers. So by the fourth time the Batter left I wasted the time by just sitting behind my counter, playing a video game that I had played before and counting credits. 

The periods of my companion's absence tended to last for a long time so I ended up sleeping until his return. I never saw the Batter sleep or take a nap. He never dozed off and sometimes I believed that he went unnaturally long without blinking. To find that out I had to stare at his face, though, which made him uncomfortable after a while.

In those days we shared a few rare hugs. I was always the one to start them, but at least the person sharing them with me got less and less uncomfortable. I decided not to think that he was particularly enjoying them until I had proof. 

Aside from this I noticed the Batter growing more and more desperate to go on with his mission. I assumed that sometimes he would visit that locked door and attempt to break it or type in random numbers just to see whether he had a chance. 

About a week had passed and he headed out again. He did not say a word he just got up and left. I was used to this by then. Once he was out I shoved up my mask a little to take in fresh air, it often got damp behind said mask. I stared up at the ceiling of the room. There was a tiny crack. I glanced over to my backpack sitting idly in the corner of the room. It sat there, abandoned, neglected. But I had no use for it when I was not in need of carrying things around. Seeing as I spent almost all of my time in one place now the backpack remained on the floor.

I spent the first hour alone with my trusty handheld game, but I finished it and refused to play it yet again.  
In the second hour I started to feel hungry and I got some meat from my lonely backpack to eat. It was surprisingly tough.  
The third hour went by agonizingly slowly as I was incredibly bored but had no idea what I could possibly do.  
In the fourth hour I began to wonder about the puppeteer. Their absence was having a huge effect on me, as well.  
In the fifth hour he finally returned. 

It was night by then and a single naked light bulb lit up the small room. I had spread my sleeping mat on the floor and the sleeping bag on top of it. But I was far from asleep. I was sitting on the well-prepared spot I had set out to sleep on at some point and was fixing the worn-out strings on my mask when I heard someone approach the door from outside. I put the mask back on quickly and leaned back casually. 

“Hello, Batter.” I greeted him as he entered the room. 

He only nodded to me and expected that I understood that as his greeting, which I did. He approached me and sat down on my sleeping bag after shoving my legs out of the way rudely. In return I put my legs onto his lap once he sat down. He did not say anything about his former whereabouts or anything about the things that had happened, but then again he never did. Frustration was written all over his face. He had been trying to advance again and he must have failed. 

“The puppeteer is still gone, huh?” I said.

“Correct. I don't think that they will ever return.”

I patted one of his legs with one of mine. “Giving up isn't what you usually do.”

“Neither is being alone.”

I frowned and drubbed him with my leg. “Hey. I am not a figment of your imagination if that's what you were thinking. You are not alone in this place.”

“I know.” 

“Then don't go saying things like that. Also, I really need the Player to return, too. Without them I am not much of anything. Being the traditional video game item merchant has little use if no one is playing the game.” I sighed, I felt my companion's gaze resting upon me, but I ignored it.

“Is that really all you are?”

I looked at him. “I think it was all I was meant and made to be. You're the purifier, eradicating spectres and other enemies on your path to success, I'm the merchant, supplying you with helpful merchandise. And somewhere in between you and me there's this messed up relationship.” He did not object to anything I said. I wondered whether he was even interested. 

“Messed up.” He repeated after a while. I felt a little guilty for calling it that. I needed to change the subject.

“So did you fight a lot of spectres today?” 

“Yes. Whenever you are not accompanying me the impure beings appear more frequently.” 

“That makes sense.”

“I do not understand why it would.” He tilted his head a little as his gaze returned to focusing on me. Apparently he was expecting a major explanation now. Some shocking revelation or a terrifying confession.

“Spectres tend to avoid me. Not always, but most of the time.” I gestured towards my mask. “This is good for more than just keeping my face hidden and secret. It scares off a lot of the phantoms that you fight. It would not be good if the spectres attacked me while I was hurrying to my next spot to sell items at. And this way they cannot get into my merchandise.” 

“I understand.” He said briefly. “That seems like a good solution.” 

“Thank you.” I waited a bit before asking my next question. “Batter. How do you feel about me?” 

He remained silent for a while. He looked at me and then back down, then into another direction entirely. “You are important. That is all I can say.”

I wondered what that meant or how much importance weighed in this case. It was hard to tell since he did not exactly comment on how important I was to him. He seemed to know that that answer was not nearly as satisfying for me as a number of other answers would have been. And yet he chose to word his response like this. I supposed that he was only trying to stay as honest as possible. “'Important' is a very broad word. Maybe you should elaborate what you mean.” I made a half-hearted chuckle. On one hand I was teasing him a little, on the other hand I really wanted to know what he thought.

I waited and waited. Anticipation was burning in my body, I felt like I was going to burst into flames any second. I watched him closely. He fiddled with the rim of his shirt a little, straightened his cap, did a million other things except for speaking. It might have been the desperation for an answer slowing everything down in my head, I had enough time to be concerned that he was going to say that I was important to him as a merchant. If that was what he meant and if that was all I was good for to him, I would begin doubting everything, maybe to the point of doubting my own existence. I watched him blink. I wanted to scream at him, force him to finally say something. I noticed I was holding my breath until he finally elaborated.

“You matter to me. I hope that you will remain okay for a long time.”

It was not as much as it could have been, but hearing this made me smile. I had been wondering for some time, after all and now I knew for sure that he cared in some way. It was certainly not the most emotional or romantic way that he cared or explained it in, but my existence mattered to him. And I decided to be happy with that.

“Were you going to sleep?” He changed the topic. He patted the sleeping bag we were sitting on with his flat hand. I only then realized that I was actually tired and could go to bed. But what would he do in the meantime? I doubted that he was going to go out again after having returned only a bit earlier. 

“I wasn't going to when you returned but now that you mention it I think I will. What are you going to do in the meantime? Do you ever even sleep?” I chuckled and removed my legs from his lap in order to stand up.

He stood up, too and stepped off the sleeping bag. “Of course I sleep. I need to replenish my energy, as well. Sleeping is a good way to do that. However, I am not feeling tired or in need of more energy right now, so I will stay awake and busy myself with something different.”

“Okay. Promise you won't watch me sleep.” I snickered at the thought. It would be weird. But if he seriously stared at me while I slept without me knowing about it, at least, I would consider that to be creepiness of the highest degree.

“For what reason would I watch you while you sleep?” He raised an eyebrow and eyed me suspiciously. 

“I don't know, but I bet sometime, somewhere, there's a creepy dude with incredibly pale skin watching someone they care about sleep.” Another snicker escaped my lips. I started to wiggle out of my comfortable sweater. Once I put it aside I took my shoes off. The Batter seemed completely unfazed by me taking my clothes off. I did not know what else I should have expected. I could get up on the counter and do a suggestive dance and I would be lucky to even hear a sound from him, not that I intended to do anything like it. He was still looking at me though.

“What a waste of time.”

I nodded in response and finally slipped out of my jeans, ignoring his gaze. Then, while wearing only my underwear and my mask, I crawled into my sleeping bag. “Can you turn off the lights ,please?” I knew how much he enjoyed flipping switches to the OFF setting for some reason.

“You sleep with that mask?” He asked and did as I said. The room became dark.

“Yup. I almost never do anything without it.” I waited for a response, but heard none so I closed my eyes and snuggled a little more into the soft cocoon-like sleeping bag I was in. I heard light footsteps on the floor and clothes shuffling. Funny, how light the Batter was walking. One would not expect a grown man like him to have almost silent footsteps. I listened to them closely and estimated how far they were away. It sounded like he was walking to the opposite end of the room. Then I heard him sitting down. I wondered what I was going to heard next, he was going to do something, after all.

There was no sound anymore. I opened my eyes. “Batter...?” I whispered his name into the darkness. On the other end of the room I could see something bright against the dark surroundings, it must have been his white uniform, that indicated where he was. 

“Zacharie.” He said my name without whispering. 

“What are you doing?” I stopped whispering and sat up.

“Nothing.”

At first I thought he was doing something that he did not want me to know about. I frowned. “You can tell me, you know.”

“I just did.”

I hesitated before speaking up again. He was really just sitting there, wasn't he? Waiting for something to happen, probably. “You are doing absolutely nothing. Why?”

“What should I do?”

That was a decent question and I did not know the answer. “You said you would busy yourself somehow, I just figured you would be doing something. Doing nothing is not really any business. It's literally nothing.” 

“I am aware of that.”

I sighed, I felt like I had to give him something to do. “So you intend to stay like that until the sun rises?”

“Or until you wake up.”

And then I felt like he wanted me to stay up, but would not say a word about it. I groaned a little, I did not intend to let him sit there like that for the next few hours. I stayed in my sleeping bag and rolled and wiggled over to my backpack. I opened one of the side pockets, took something out and wiggled over to the Batter in a worm-like fashion. I took the MP3-Player I had picked up and plugged in the headphones that accompanied it. “Don't startle now.”

“I never startle.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved the headphones over his ears. He got startled.  
I pushed a button on the small device and the screen lit up, I saw my companion's confused and curious expression. I pushed a few more buttons and started the music. I waited a bit to watch him and make sure he was alright with this. Time passes faster when one has music. It was almost fully charged so it would last for a while. He did not ask questions about it or its origin but he needed to get used to it. I yawned. At some point I could see that he was enjoying the songs he was listening to. I smiled and returned to my makeshift bed.

I thought about how the man a few feet away from me apparently knew almost nothing about anything besides purifying.

I heard the faint sound of music from the other end of the room, but it did not bother me. Filled with content, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.


	5. Fragment 1, Part 5: Go Cold Fish

I woke up painfully slowly the following day. 

The room was lit up and it was no longer morning. After a few minutes of consciousness I finally sat up, stretched and then yawned loudly. I adjusted my mask which had slipped a little out of place during my sleep. It took me a few minutes to remember the events of the previous night. I had had a long conversation with the Batter before lending him my MP3-Player and sleeping. I looked at the opposite wall. He was still there. He looked at me.

“Good morning.” I greeted him as I peeled myself out of my sleeping bag.

“You slept very long.” He observed me. The small device was in his hand, the wire of the headphones was wrapped around it.

I reached for my jeans and pulled them on. “Yup!” I chuckled warmly. “I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long. Did you continue listening to the music?” I buttoned and zipped my pants. 

“Yes. The device turned off a few minutes ago. I think it is all out of energy.” He seemed a little troubled.

“That's okay.” I took my sweater and pulled it over my head, I continued talking while shoving my arms into the large sleeves. “I'm glad you like it.” I put the shoes aside, feeling comfortable in socks. I rolled up the sleeping bag and stuffed it into its casing. “So you didn't sleep at all?” 

“I believe I fell asleep for an hour or so.”

He only needed an hour of sleep, apparently. I did not question this fact and simply accepted it. If I questioned everything that I considered to be strange or weird the Batter would soon be annoyed by my constant asking. I rolled up the sleeping mat and wrapped and buckled a belt around it. I then crawled over to him on all fours, in the mood on every degree to give him a nice, long, warm hug. But before I could do that, he held out the MP3-Player to me. He must have thought that that was my reason to crawl over.

I took it without a word and made my way over to the backpack. I let the device disappear inside the side pocket I had taken it out of hours earlier. Then I sat down. I looked over at him. “So what's on the non-existent schedule for today?” I snickered.

“The usual.” He took his bat into his hand.

“Of course.” I sighed deeply and looked at the floor instead. I had not thought that he would suggest anything else beside 'the usual', which meant pointless battles over pointless battles over pointless battles. The floor was cold, just like the atmosphere surrounding us. “Off you go, I guess?”

The Batter seemed to pick up on my disappointment. “Would you like to come along?”

“I don't really need to watch you killing spectres all the time. No offense, but it just gets boring at some point.” He did not react so I doubted that he felt offended in any way. “Is battling like this really of any use for you? You said yourself that you cannot eradicate the spectres like this.”

“Practice.”

“You don't level without your puppeteer.”

“I can still practice.”

“I've noticed.” I ran my fingertips over the cold surface of the ground. “Well, have fun and good luck, then. Take care of yourself.” 

He nodded and stood up, he headed out, but hesitated once he was at the door. I looked at him curiously, wondering why he was not leaving. His hand was tightly around his bat and he was facing the door. He was standing so close to it that he could probably smell it. “Take care, as well.” He then opened the door with one hand, walked out and closed it again, only from the other side.

I stared at the door for minutes. The first few of those minutes I was wondering whether my imagination was playing pranks on me. The following few minutes I realized in different ways that he had literally just told me to be careful. He cared. And the last few of those minutes were spent with happiness and pure, raw optimism. My lips were curled into a smile and my cheeks were flushed. 

Moments later I reached for my shoes, slipped into them, tied the laces and got up from the floor. I went over to the corner of the room, got my backpack ready, put it on my back and left through the door my companion had taken off through. I did not follow the path I knew he had walked, though. Somehow I felt encouraged to go, find a few Elsen and attempt to sell them some merchandise. While they would not be interested in a Joker or a bat, I could always get a good deal out of selling them sugar or a new tie. 

They were very hesitant with deals, but once I threw in a sugar cube I had them wrapped around my little finger. Besides, sugar kept them calm and collected, which was almost always the condition one would desire to meet an Elsen in. Except if that someone was the battle seeking Batter. Then that person might be disappointed to find a happy Elsen.

Once I had made a few deals and earned a few Credits, I took off again. About two hours must have passed by then, so if I were to return to that empty room that had somehow become my home, my companion would still be gone. I wish I could say that it did not matter to me whether he was there or not, because even his presence brought no warmth into the place and it did not erase the feeling of loneliness. The Batter's presence even sometimes came with a feeling of uneasiness and a deep awkward silence.

I shook my head. No, I could not think of him like that. He was my companion. In more ways than one. Although there was still no real bond between us and neither was there any real intimacy. I felt more intimate with Pablo when I scratched him behind his ears, forcing him to make involuntary purrs, than I ever felt around my companion.

I headed to Zone 0. I did not intend to meet or encounter Pablo and he probably was not there at the time, having business to attend to other than whatever it was he did in Zone 0. I entered the room with the code. I believed that this was the first room the Player was supposed to ever enter due to its positioning in the Zone, but I could not be certain. Details and whole chunks of memory from the script were already gone and the rest was slowly fading away, too. I wondered whether I would still remember my existence or the existence of my precious Batter in a few days or weeks. For some reason I could not bring myself to be seriously concerned with the matter though. I preferred to attempt living in the moment. This sort of carpe diem attitude was probably necessary for people like me who had not much to look forward to. But I digress.

I entered the tiny room and knelt down. I opened a secret trap door in the ground and passed through it. I walked through a short hallway, letting my hand slide across the golden wall as I headed for the next door. I walked into the room ahead of me. There were large amounts of sugar all around me, sparkling white in the light of the room. I could smell its sweet and tempting scent, but it was not the reason for my visit. 

The reason was the slim girl sitting there leaning against the wall. She seemed to be terribly bored. She had all the reasons to be. Once I found out that the Batter under command of the puppeteer was strolling around the Zones I had to find a safe place for her. I did not quite remember why but for some reason I became sad once I remembered this. Sad as if something were to happen to my close friend regardless of the care I took of her. She allowed her gaze to wander around and eventually meet me. Her bored expression turned into a twisted smile filled with happiness and her chuckles chimed through the room like high pitched bells. “Zacharie!” She shouted my name as if assuming that I was close to deaf.

“Buenos días, amiga.” I greeted her in a calmer manner.

She got up from her little spot and ran over. She ran like a dog of which the owner had returned and jumped me like a cat that had found its prey. I caught her in a tight hug and held her admittedly inappropriately dressed body close to mine. Not that I cared about her fashion choices. She let go quickly and hopped around from one foot to another as she spoke to me. “Where have you been? I thought you had forgotten about me!”

“You say this as if there was an actual possibility that I might.” I chuckled warmly as I watched her bounce around in excitement. I took her soft and slender hand and sat down with her on the ground. “I have a lot of news and things to speak about, I hope you are willing to listen.” I said this in a happy and content tone.

“Of course! So what about this Batter person you were speaking about as you shoved me into this room?” She just had to remind me of the rude treatment I gave her. “Is his mission done and can I come out?”

“Actually...” I sighed, I did not know how to explain to her that she might have to hide for an infinite amount of time. And even if I knew how to say it I knew she would come out at some point anyway, because that is the only reasonable thing to do. I was keeping her in this small room like a prisoner. “Well, I told you that he was guided and controlled by this other person, the puppeteer, right?” She nodded 'yes' in response. “Well that person seems to be gone and now he's stuck in one place maybe forever.”

“Meaning...?”

She got impatient. Fortunately there were copious amounts of sugar surrounding us so in case she overreacted or got mad, there was the possibility to calm her. “He is still determined to battle and attempt purifying and if he could he would continue on his own. But he can't. So it's still not safe for you to be wandering around somewhere outside. You might encounter him any second wherever you are.”

Her shoulders slumped. She looked down at the floor and began to draw little patterns into the thin layer of spread sugar on top of it with her index finger. “So I have to stay in here forever.”

“Basically.”

“You know I won't do that.” She looked up at me again with a serious expression.

“Yeah, I know. You're gonna do what you want to do one way or another. I just thought that I at least had to let you know. I don't want you to run into your own demise.” I smiled a little behind my mask and touched her white hair. It was smooth and soft in between my fingertips.

“You underestimate me, Zacharie. I can take this purifier any day. Especially after what you told me about him needing that puppeteer to be really good at battle.” She smirked in a twisted and borderline insane way as she stopped moving her finger around in the bits of sugar.

If it were just me and Sugar against the world I would let her go and do as she pleased. But that was no longer the case. I had grown to have serious and deep feelings for the Batter. Although he was still cold and Sugar was my longtime warm and sweet friend, I could not let her kill him. I never cared much for eternal peace or things like that and I was inexperienced at trying to establish a friendship between two other people, but even I knew that the Batter could never accept Sugar's existence. Even if he were compassionate and emotional, his priorities were set and his passions strong. And those priorities and passions are purifying and battling things in order to engage in purifying. “I want to tell you to go off and fight him to your heart's desire, but I can't.”

“Why not? We are friends, you never minded when I 'accidentally' hurt someone.” She tilted her head in confusion.

I turned my head down, I felt like I was betraying her. “Yes, we are friends. Close friends. Best friends, even. But the Batter is no longer just someone.”

“What are you saying, Zacharie?”

She was looking at me, her eyes narrowed, her smile replaced by a disapproving frown. She was intimidating in every way and I was already thinking of the best way to stuff some of the white sweetness beside me into her mouth. She kept glaring at me, I bit my bottom lip and then released it again. I opened my mouth to speak, closed it and opened it again. I took all the confidence and courage I could muster and responded.

“I have developed feelings for him.”

Her eyes widened. She stared at me. She did not seem mad or disappointed. She did not yell at me, she did not sneer. She just stared. And that was the worst thing she could have done. I did not know how to react. Should I continue speaking or wait for an answer? Should I stay like this or take a safety distance of at least five feet? She had never done this before. She always had a witty remark or a meaningful response planned out. This was the first time that instead of saying something she stared at me with a blank expression. I waited, begging her internally to speak up. She could start cussing, insulting me, calling me anything she wanted as long as she spoke. “Say something, please?”

What happened in the next moment is something I will never fully understand. Sugar practically fell into me and wrapped her arms around my body. She held onto me as I awkwardly rubbed her back. For a moment I thought she was crying and I felt guilty and like an awful friend. But then she leaned back and I saw a sincere and honest smile on her face. “I'm really happy for you!”

“Are you sure?” I asked, dazzled by the sudden return of the lighthearted mood.

“Yes. Absolutely. It kind of sucks that I can't waste that bat wielding guy, but you're my friend and that is more important to me than killing someone.” Hearing anyone else say that would just be disturbing. Hearing it from Sugar was sweet and cute. “I will still leave this depressing basement if I want to.”

“How can you call it depressing. There is sugar wherever you look.” I snickered and she flicked the forehead part of my mask.

“I might like sugar, but I need more than that to survive and be happy.” She let go off me and leaned from one side to another. She was grinning and staring at me again. 

“Yes?” I asked, a smile in my voice.

“Zacharie, don't be stupid. You have told me interesting news. I don't get out enough, I need details. Make 'em juicy.” She leaned forward. Her grin was suggesting a million and one things. It was so very suggestive that I could practically read her thoughts. 

I blushed brightly and was glad that she could not see it or she would make fun of me. It did not bother me much but now she actually had a solid basis to plant her jokes, puns and embarrassing suggestions onto. I shoved her head out of my personal bubble by pushing my index finger against her forehead. “I am sorry to disappoint but there are no juicy details.”

“Don't lie to me.” She kept wearing her smug grin and attempted to shove herself back into my personal bubble.

“I wish I was!” I fell silent immediately. Apparently when you actually want something really badly you start saying things out loud that you really should be keeping to yourself. I heard her chiming giggle and waited for her to finish. When she did I started to explain my situation to her. I told her about my awkward confession, about the odd and practically non-existent relationship I had, the hugs, his absence, the previous night and lastly his parting words from earlier. She appeared to be listening carefully. She made a noise of understanding or approval now and then, even a few disapproving ones were slipped into the repertoire of sounds.

“Zacharie throws his net into the ocean and he makes one catch: A cold fish!” She commented after I had finished and then fell into another fit of laughter

I prodded her with my fingers as I tried desperately not to follow her example. I had to remain calm and serious to discuss a serious matter. “I need you to focus, friend. This is a very serious concern of mine.” A snicker escaped me. “I mean it.” Now that just plainly sounded like a lie. I gave in to my urges and laughed with her.

When both of us had calmed down I spoke up again. “I want to make him feel happy in some way. I don't think he has felt happy in a long time. Or ever! But how do you make someone like that happy.”

“I could give you a few ideas.” She leaned over with that suggestive grin of hers and made suggestive eyebrow movement. She giggled.

“Let me rephrase it then: How do I make him feel happy without things that cause you to make that face at me and nearly prod my side with your elbow playfully.” 

“Now this is a challenge!” She exclaimed and shoved her chin into her cupped hand. She narrowed her eyes and stared at the ceiling. I glanced up to make sure she was really thinking and not just staring at something that was crawling along up there or a crack in a brick or something. I gave her a few minutes. At some point she snapped out of her trance-like condition and looked at me. “You need to find out why he's emotionally screwed up!”

“Nicer wording, Sugar, this is my subject of interest you are talking about.” Despite her unfriendly way of expressing her idea she had a solid point. I could not fix something without knowing where it came from. A deep conversation about the Batter's emotions was in order. Now the only problem that remained was... “How do I get him to talk to me about that? He's not exactly the type to have long emotional conversations with anyone.”

“Just slip it in casually.”

“'Oh hey Batter, how was purifying things and by the way did you ever suffer from a deep emotional trauma?'” I pretended to be talking to him to prove to Sugar that it was close to impossible to did what she suggested. “Sounds legit.” I said sarcastically.

“You'll figure something out.” She waved it off with her hand as if it was no big deal to have a conversation with someone about their emotions and why is seemed as if there were none. 

The rest of the conversation slowly turned its back on my feelings and the Batter and what to do about the both of them combined. Sugar and I began talking about lighter things. We screwed and played around. She even asked me to take out my cards so that we could have a match of anything. She suggested 'Go Cold Fish' before immediately correcting herself and changing it to 'Cold Fish' only. I decided not to explain to her that that was not how the title of that game worked for grammatical reasons, but instead just had another good laugh with her. Time flew by and soon enough I gave her a long, tight hug, said a few parting words to her and left her. I left the trap door a crack open in case she wanted to leave without having to bust her way out.

Looking back on it, I believe that there was some worry in her parting words and some desperation in her hug. A lot of things were already destined not to work. She was worried. But I tried not to see why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that Zacharie and Sugar have this really strange really close friendship <3


	6. Fragment 1, Part 6: Cold

There was still plenty of time before the Batter's return after I had left Sugar's basement.

I was not sure what I was supposed to do until then. I thought of the different possibilities I had. Going back already and waiting for my companion's return would be an utter waste of time. I was not in the mood to find more Elsen and sell goods to them. Although some of their habits and mannerisms surely were endearing in some way, the shy and (usually) weak creatures tended to bore me after a while. They all desired the same products. They all were convinced to purchase my merchandise by the same promises. Hell, they even all looked alike. Sometimes I wondered whether they had names. I had never heard or learned any.

I sat down on a staircase that was located close to the small room I returned to every night. I sighed deeply. I glanced around. I had not noticed it at first but ever since the puppeteer's disappearance, not only the status of the Batter, but the whole world surrounding us had seemingly come to a halt. Not in a manner of stopped time or an everlasting repetition of one day or moment. But after waking up the events of the previous day all seemed unreal and like a dream. I looked down at my shoes which proudly presented me their neatly tied laces.

For a short moment I wondered whether I had really played chess with the Batter, whether I had really slept in my sleeping bag while he was enjoying music. I felt like I had never actually experienced his touch and his hugs felt like a dream that was long in the past. I realized that even the talk with Sugar started to feel unreal. Everything that had happened in those past days just felt like lone single memories, softly carried around by my mind, but never confirmed to be true by my thoughts and intelligence. 

I wanted to know for sure that I was not being tricked by my own head. I wanted to be certain that I had experienced those things I remembered, even just vaguely. I knew though, that there were a lot of events and occurrences that apparently did not make it into my long term memory. Then again I knew that I should be actually be grateful for those memories right now. I was losing more and more knowledge about the script and the game and it was killing me. It was just slowly slipping away part for part and once I realized it, it was too late. I should make sure that the things that I could still think of were accessible to me in the future.

I pulled out a notepad and a pen with one swift movement.

I decided to start with easy, but important things.

I thought about what the puppeteer started with so I had some type of structure to do this after. The first person the puppeteer encountered was practically the Batter. I almost praised myself out loud for remembering this, but then I noticed what a tiny and obvious fact this was and decided to hold back the praise until a later point in time.

I drew a doodle of the Batter that barely resembled him. The characteristic hat and the crudely drawn uniform would give away his identity in case anyone needed to know. Then I wrote 'THE BATTER' above my drawing's head in capital letters. I noted down related words or terms all around him, the whole picture had features of and similarities to a mind map. The sheet was soon filled with words and phrases like 'Purifies' or 'Uses bats' or 'Puppet'. But those were only a few of the broad selection of terms I used. I decided that this was enough for my future self to remember who the Batter was. I was not a stupid person, after all, and I doubted that I would ever be. I tore the page off the notepad and folded it and shoved it into an empty side pocket of the backpack.

Next the Player would encounter... I was shocked for a moment. I did not remember his name. What was his name? I knew it. He was a cat and he was a good guy and he was my friend and he helped. I knew who he was, but what was his name? I looked around frantically as if someone could see me failing to remember an important detail like this one. “Pablo!” I shouted aloud after a few minutes, the name had crept back into my mind. 

I began my next doodle. This time I externalized Pablo in paper and black ballpoint pen ink. I wrote his name like I wrote the Batter's in capital letters above the head of the drawing. I also began writing down things, traits, qualities, mannerisms and other things about him which I considered to be important. I cringed mentally for a second when I noted down that he had some relative I could not quite recall, but I did not let it bother me in the slightest. Once I had written down everything I deemed to be important to a future self of mine I put the note into the same pocket as the Batter sheet.

I repeated this procedure over and over again. I made one for the Elsen, myself and a few objects, creatures and more. As soon as I had done all of that, I tried to focus on the script. Unfortunately, I did not remember the reason, goal or motivation of the storyline. I knew that the puppeteer had to help the Batter purify the Zones but I felt like there was a bigger picture than that. But I could not grasp said picture, I could not even recall how big its frame was. So I only noted down that the Player and their puppet purified Zones by killing the spectres and most importantly some type of spectre leader within them.

I put away my notepad and pen. I felt a deep disappointment in myself. I had not been able to remember anything about the story and there was no chance that I could find the solution to the riddle that kept my companion at bay. This was the point where I would usually tell myself to stop feeling bad or complaining since that did not solve anything. But I could not do so this time. I was getting closer and closer to losing my entire purpose. 

After a few minutes of silent suffering I dragged myself off the staircase I had found and sat on. As I slowly and heavily walked back to what I then figured I could call my room I attempted to wipe the negative thoughts off my mind. It proved to be a difficult challenge which kept me occupied the entire way. 

I expected to see the Batter once I entered the place. He was not there. Disappointment rained over me like hail once again. In addition to this I was involuntarily bathing in a feeling of uneasiness. I did not know whether it was simply because I had expected something else than what I received or perhaps because my mind started to give me ideas of my companion's whereabouts and condition. One more colorful and terrifying than the other. I walked further into the room and from the corner of my eye I saw something on the counter. I approached it and picked it up to examine it. There was a note on white paper. Beside it were a couple of credits. 

'I bought some Fortune Tickets and Abbadon's Meat.'

The note was written in very neat and cursive handwriting. It looked like something that would take me hours to write. The letters were neat and every single one was a masterpiece. I stopped marveling at the text in order to comprehend the message. It was obviously written by the Batter and it felt like a waterproof raincoat around me that protected me from the hail of disappointment and the bath in uneasiness. He must have taken the Tickets and Meat from the storage room nearby since I had my backpack with me this entire time.

I did not like the idea of someone touching my storage without my permission, but what I did like was the fact that the Batter did not only pay for the things he took, but he also left me a note explaining it. In my head I added up these facts and the result of the equation seemed to be that he cared about me and that he wanted me not to worry. I was probably already taking it a little far to say that he flat out cared, but that was what I wanted to believe. I distinctly ignored the fact that he had practically left these precious Credits out in the open. 

I shoved the credits into a compartment of my bag and put the note into the pocket of my pants. I felt the need to keep it and to keep it safe.

I had nothing to do so apparently, until the Batter returned I was going to play another match of the waiting game. I sat on the counter, the same spot where he had left the credits on for me. It was time to play the waiting game. The goal of the game was to wait a certain amount of time until an event occurred. I had played the waiting game very often in the past. Being the merchant meant spending countless minutes and hours sitting at one spot and waiting for your one prominent customer to reach it. The Player sometimes took their time with the riddle solving, causing an agonizing waiting time. But I had never been impatient, so it was no big deal to me. The same applied to this situation.

I stared at the door for about five minutes, then at the floor, then at my feet dangling in the air. I noticed a bit of dirt on my jeans and tried to remove it by rubbing the spot with my thumb. Whenever I heard a noise outside, even if it was ever so silent, I perked up, looked at the door, hoping for my Batter to return. He did not appear though. Only after approximately two hours the door flew open and an exhausted man in all his holiness strolled through the doorway.

“Hello, friend!” I said loudly and made a small waving motion with my hand. 

He mumbled something I could barely understand. He approached a close by wall and sat down. He closed his eyes. It was obvious that my friend was extremely tired. Beating spectres had worn him out. I looked over at him. “Thank you for writing me the note.” I tapped the pocket of my pants from the outside. “It was nice of you to notify me.” I tried to cheer him up by speaking in a very happy voice, but he hardly even budged.

He muttered more things, also something that sounded like 'You're welcome' but I was not certain. I hopped off of the counter, put down my backpack and walked over to his side where I slid onto the floor beside him. He did not bother to look at me, he did not even give me one glance. “Tired?” I asked. 

“Yes. I shall rest now.”

“So you're just going to fall asleep?” I raised an eyebrow, but he could not see it, of course.

“I hope so. Do you have any alternate options for me?”

I leaned back a little. “Well, I was hoping we could talk.”

This caused him to open his eyes and look directly at me. I could already hear his refusal in my mind, but I was surprised by a different sort of response. “If you desire to do so, we might as well. I assume that I will not fall asleep right away, anyway. What is it that you want to discuss?”

“I would like to know more about you.” I smiled with content behind my mask. He turned his head away from me without a word. His black shoes were apparently the new focus of his interest and he must have been very interested in them for he was staring at them intensely. I should specify something I want to know. Of course my ultimate goal was to know first of all whether he had ever been emotionally normal and second of all why he was emotionally cold. 

I debated on how to approach the conversation. I had to start small. Maybe even unimportant facts or thoughts that he would not bother sharing with me. It could even be something with an obvious answer. I tapped the chin part of my mask as I thought.“What do you think about the Elsen?” Opinions seemed like a good way to start.

“If they remain in their normal condition, I do not mind them. Some of them seem to be useful to my puppeteer and those that try to stand in my way are but minor obstacles. If they happen to burn and attack me they are not very challenging adversaries and thus rather uninteresting nonetheless.” He spoke with a monotone voice and it appeared to me as if he was not interested in talking to me. Not in the slightest. 

I did not ask him about this tone of disinterest in his voice and instead proceeded to move the conversation forward. “Do you ever feel sorry for them when they get burnt?”

“No. Burnt Elsen are impure beings. They must be eradicated.”

“You really love eradicating things from the face of the world, don't you? As long as they're not pure things, obviously.” I heard a much more negative sound to my voice than I had planned on using.

He hesitated before answering. I considered this to be interesting, since I had asked about him loving something. I asked about an emotional connection of his. And though it was just to an action or rather a pattern of action, it seemed to take him a while to think of the right answer to respond with. “It is my duty. I must do it in order to purify.”

Of course he would respond with that. I had no idea how I could have ever expected something else. “So you don't love it?” I dug deeper.

I saw him glancing at me. I could not tell whether it was one of his silent glares or just a simple glance. There was no hatred or annoyance in his voice though once he finally responded.“If you insist to call it that. I suppose I enjoy it enough for you to call it loving.” I felt like he had internally admitted defeat to me although I meant no harm. 

I wanted to rub his back and hug him and tell him that I was glad for him to have admitted it. But I knew that that was not a good idea at all. “Yup. It's definitely enough enjoyment. I enjoy things, too, y'know. The largest portion of this deep romantic passion goes to all the Credits I can find in my bag. And those in yours, too.” I chuckled.

He looked at me suspiciously. I knew this gaze by now. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed together to a thin line and his pupils seemed much smaller than usual. I always imagined that this was the gaze he made when finding a clue to a riddle or talking to an Elsen that demanded a code. “What do you use those Credits for?”

I chuckled again. Deeply. “Different things. Nothing impure, I can assure you.”

His suspicious gaze remained on me for a few more moments but then he relaxed and leaned back. “Fine.” 

I let my gaze wander around the room. I thought about how to continue the talk but I could not figure out what to say or ask. So instead of saying anything I took his hand and held it tightly. He twitched once when I took it but did not seem to mind otherwise. 

“Do you like this?” He suddenly asked.

“You mean the hand holding?”

“Yes.”

I looked at him blankly. I wondered why he asked. Did that mean that he did not enjoy it? I thought about him possibly disliking or hating the physical contact I kept trying to make and the very idea scared me. I swallowed the fear and raised my voice in response. “Yes, I like it very much, even.” I took a moment to organize my thoughts before continuing. “You did not refuse my relationship offer when I told you about it, so I figured this was okay.”

“It is.” He nodded to me, it was a reassuring gesture. “I do not dislike it. I like it in some way, even.”

That moment, I swore that my heart made a large jump within my chest. I snickered. “That's good.” 

I felt like the situation had suddenly become warmer, the whole room was now warmer. But this sudden change of atmosphere had caused the situation to become more delicate and difficult to maintain. If I said one wrong word, phrased one sentence badly or asked one inappropriate question, everything would be ruined. The Batter would feel uncomfortable, irritated or anything else along those lines and he would maybe refuse to speak with me like this again. Of course my mind might have been exaggerating possible outcomes and consequences, but I did not consider that option.

“Batter.” He turned his head towards me, I went on. “I want to know something else.” He looked at me questioningly. I took a few deep breaths. This might ruin everything. “Why are you this cold?”

He tilted his head like a confused puppy that did not understand why its owner was yelling at him. “Elaborate.” He ordered.

“Well, you just always seem cold and indifferent. It's like nothing matters to you. I'm not a 'touchy-feely' person myself, but at least I attempt to let people know when I give a crap about them.” Words started flowing out of my mouth like a waterfall, I sounded harsher than I wanted to be to him, but I could not stop it. The volume of my voice rose. “You only speak about purifying and I know that it's important to you, but your puppeteer is gone. And yet all you do is battle the same spectres over and over again.” 

He looked at me. There was no emotion on his face. He did not remove his hand from mine and he did not stand up or look at the door, considering escape. It was frustrating. I wanted him to get mad at me and shout at me and tell me I was wrong. I wanted him to grab my sweater and shake me and ask me how I dared to say what I said. He even could have started crying like a lost child and whimpering about how I was being cruel. Anything, literally anything, would have been better than the indifference. The painful, cold facade that was his expression. My hand was burning around his but I did not let go.

He closed his eyes. “Purifying is my duty. I will keep purifying all the adversaries I can find. And in order to purify seriousness is needed. Emotions are a waste of time. Emotions cause people to be unproductive and destructive. They cause people to refuse things like their duty. I cannot, under any circumstances, take that risk. I have a goal I want to achieve and I will not be stopped from doing so.”

The heart that had jumped just a little while ago was now being torn apart bit for bit, causing me agonizing pain. “So when you agreed to have a relationship with me...?”

“I was seeking out the most productive thing to do. I could not risk losing you as my supplier.”

I felt like I had been lied to. Like the universe was bending over, looking at my face and laughing at it. A million punches and kicks would have been nicer than this. I tore my grip away from his hand and leaned away from him, I started to move away slowly. “So you lied to me. Permanently. You knew that you and this... thing, whatever it was, mattered to me. But you lied to my face.”

“I never said anything about any sort of emotions.” He tried to defend himself, but I could tell that he was not really hurt. I wanted him to feel guilty. I wanted him to apologize to me a thousand times and I wanted him to hope for forgiveness. Nothing of the sort happened. The Batter simply looked at me. “You see now that emotions only bring you harm. You are hurt.”

“Of course I'm hurt! You made me believe that I mattered to you!” I shouted. I wondered whether I was overreacting, but I could not come to the conclusion that I was. He had practically betrayed me. I thought that I would have a chance to turn our relationship into something comforting and, although I did not want to admit it since it was corny, something wonderful. And instead there never even was the possibility. He did not care. I had been wrong. I felt tears forming in my eyes, but I did not want to cry. I was not a weak person, I had never been, but at that moment, a lot of different things clashed together in my life and I felt helpless.

I considered walking out the door and was surprised that I had not done so, yet. But somehow I did not want to leave. It was complicated. On one hand I wanted to shout more at the Batter, call him a lot of different and -for normal people- hurtful things, but on the other hand I just wanted to stay and make everything alright. I pulled my knees to my chest and curled up. “Can you go away?” I asked, the anger in my voice was replaced by a sad pleading sound.

“I do not wish for you to suffer.” He stated. He was looking at me.

“Because it would be inconvenient for you?” I snapped, my voice was a snake bite full of poison.

“That is one of the reasons. The other is one I cannot explain.” He looked at his feet again.

I sobbed. “An explanation might be useful right now, you know.” I muttered. 

“I agree. But I really cannot explain. I desire to but it is indescribable. And if you must know it is very confusing, as well.”

My breathing stopped. I raised my head and looked at him. Not much, just a tiny bit. I still did not know the origin of his bizarre omnipresent mood or lack of feelings and I still did not know how or whether I could cure him. He had turned his gaze back toward me while speaking. I could see in his eyes that not only did he not know why he did not want to leave, but that it was scaring him. 

A single question shot through my mind.

Was there hope after all?


	7. Fragment 2, Part 1: Pie

Something was missing as I walked by the river of plastic. Something other than the puppeteer, huge chunks of my memory and a concept of occurrences. There was no bounce in my step. No warm chuckles from my throat. No merchandise in my bag. The latter of those facts was probably the weirdest.

After my one-sided quarrel with the Batter neither of us had dared to speak a word. No one had wanted to damage the frail glass wall of silence. A sigh or similar noises would softly stroke that wall, but that was it. It had not taken long for my dear companion, whom I still felt the deepest of disappointment in and betrayal by, to fall asleep, his back against the wall, his cap covering some of his handsome face.

I had stared at him for a couple of minutes. I was not sure whether he had really truly been asleep by that time or whether he had been pretending to be for some reason. I had been able to imagine him trying to fake it. But after approximately half an hour of careful observation I had decided that he had been asleep and leaned back to stare at the ceiling instead. It had been dark in the room since I had turned off the lights once my companion had fallen asleep. Because of this I had had a hard time actually seeing the ceiling so I had just stared into the darkness.

The darkness and presence of my beloved and despised companion (I was still confused by my emotions by the time I was walking outside) had caused me to feel uncomfortable and uneasy which had made me leave that room. Because of this I was walking along the river. I looked into it now and then seeing my reflection in the faintest of lights. It was disturbed every now and then by a wave tearing the image, that lay upon the plastic, apart. I sighed sadly.

Sure the last thing the Batter said to me before silence fell over us was something that gave me a crumb of hope, but my heart still felt heavy because of the terrible discovery I had been forced to make before that.

I called myself a fool in my head. A fool blinded by his own unreachable desires and probably a decent portion of some kind of hormones. I was not an expert with medical conditions or things concerning the health of an individual, but there was some place these feelings had to be coming from.

I mentally returned to the hope I had been given. I knew that I had to hold on to it. And I had to hold on to it tightly. I suddenly came to realize what would happen if I gave up on trying to be with the Batter and trying to establish some form of connection. It might just be that both of us would be stranded alone forever. He would kill spectres every day, following the same pattern of action day after day maybe for eternity or until he gave up and sat somewhere alone, doing close to nothing forever. And in the meantime I would be wandering around aimlessly, in the beginning I might sell things to Elsen if I found some but I would get tired of it. Now that Sugar was able to move around I might not find her ever again or find her dead. If I gave up now there was a very likely chance that both, my companion and me would be facing a destiny filled with loneliness and agony. Maybe even insanity, who knew.

I had to prevent this dystopia from coming into existence, no matter the cost. So I thought.

And I thought for a very long time, walking further and further along the river but against its flow. I saw Elsen in the distance and noticed that the darkness was slowly eaten away by the light that announced the new day. I was sure that Elsen were afraid of the dark just like they were afraid of close to everything else so they would not be outside unless it was somewhat bright or unless they were paid with a lot of sugar. I saw one looking at me and I waved at him. He startled and quickly turned away. Cute creatures, those Elsen.

I kept thinking about how to change my companion. Not much, just a little. Maybe if I found a way to make just one emotion flourish within him, the remaining ones would start budding and blooming like a large colorful flower bed. I wanted to consider my options, but seeing as I apparently did not have any, there was not much to consider. 

For starters I figured that the Batter needed to like me. He needed to trust me in all seriousness and from the depth of his... Let us just say there had to be a lot of trust present. Maybe then he could learn the beauty of emotions that he either had never experienced or had forgotten about and then I could take that and expand this understanding and turn it into experiencing. 

But I was in need of something that would make him content or happy, something that might even bring us closer together in some way. From the corner of my eye I noticed one of the small Elsen walking quickly and determined into a direction that was similar to mine. He was clutching a bag tightly. The small fellow tripped and fell over a chunk of metal. The bag flew out of his grasp in the process and hit the ground, sugar pouring out of it. I observed as he crawled over to it, trying desperately to shove the former contents of the bag back inside of it.

I thought about the sugar. The Elsen sure loved it. Craved it. I continued walking while considering sugar to be a valuable gift. But the Batter had no use for it. And even if he had he could just get some, if not from me then from any Elsen. But food in general might be a good way to go. Ever since the change the world had gone through, since the beginning of the Zones, the guardians, the Elsen, any food beside sugar and meat had been terribly rare. This caused me a lot of disadvantage seeing as I needed more than sugar and meat to survive. So every once in a while I went looking for something else. Sometimes I wondered about how much of this food was actually left. Because it might just be that my existence depended on it. Maybe now not so much anymore since the Player was missing and everything was strange because of it.

But I digress. If I was able to get some special food for the Batter, maybe I could awaken some kind of positive emotion inside of him. After all: The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. And though I was not quite sure what kind of heart my dear friend had, there must have been something of the sort. 

I knew immediately what food I could get for him. A pie. Pies were delicious and I knew a vault that was practically filled to the brim with warm, flavorful pies. It belonged to someone, but I did not bother thinking about whom it belonged to. Some large guy. Luckily I remembered the way to it and being clever and crafty I had my ways of getting in. The vault was extremely secure, because the ingredients and also the goods themselves were rare. The latter only existed in said vault. I traveled by foot and train and red blocks and reached my destination after a while. It took me longer than I had expected. 

I stood in front of the oversized vault door. I thought for a moment that I could already smell the fruity scent of my target, but once the scent vanished I realized that it was just my starving mind that was toying with my senses. I thought about the large man that owned this vault. I did not recall anything about him, not even his attributes. I only knew that he was large. He must have been, in order to eat an entire vault of pies per day. What a waste. I could not finish one of them on my own, not even when I was famished. Either way, one missing pie would not kill this guy. I took out a pocket knife and began playing around and fiddling with the lock of the vault. It was a bit tricky, but I was confident and had faith in my skills. I had done things like this a million times before. I needed to get my merchandise from somewhere, after all. 

It took a couple of minutes, but then the lock finally clicked and opened. I pulled the heavy vault door open with all of my might. It was then that I could really smell the scent. It was almost sickeningly sweet. I left the door open and walked in to retrieve one warm, large, fruit filled pastry. A lot of them looked squished and broken from other pies being stacked on top of them. I noticed a beauty nearby and without thinking twice, picked it up and shoved it into my backpack. I sadly lacked any sort of paper bag or something similar to it, so I had to put it in my bag like this. It was fortunate that I had left my merchandise elsewhere for this trip or the delicious crust of the pie might have been crushed by a holy bat or something of the sort. I had just closed my backpack again when I heard a loud slamming noise. 

I felt chills run down my spine as I turned around slowly and carefully. The huge vault door had closed behind me. Another quiet click was audible. The lock had either fallen back into place or someone, most likely the owner, had locked the door again. The former option was more preferred by me as the latter meant that said owner might have seen me inside.

It goes to show that thievery took a lot of concentration and probably also a much longer attention span than I was capable of having. I tried to stay optimistic. I was in a room filled with pie. It could have been much worse. I prayed that the large man had not yet consumed his daily pie serving, yet, or else I would be stuck within this place for a day or so. I considered that to be highly unlikely though, seeing as it was still very early morning. Apparently he only got up early to bake, these pies were fresh from the oven. A strange reason to get up in the morning, but much better than spending all day doing absolutely and utterly nothing. 

It seemed that everyone had their daily routine of doing things, even with the Player being gone. I was not sure who beside the Batter, Sugar and me were aware of the puppeteer's absence, but there was probably no one else. The news would have spread by then and the Elsen would have panicked after having the concept of the Player and a video game explained to them.

I sat down on the floor. The downsides of not having one's items with them became apparent to me. I became bored very quickly. As I had mentioned before, I was not an impatient person. I was used to waiting, I had practiced my patience multiple, multiple times. But usually when I did so, I was not surrounded by pastry and an ever growing scent of sweetness. I began to feel sick after a few minutes. I wanted to lean onto a wall, but every wall was hidden by the pastry.

I realized how tired I was after a certain time of just being there. I never found out exactly how much time I wasted sitting around in a pastry filled room while staring at the door. It was blank from the inside, the perfect prison cell. I had begun thinking about things that I usually avoided.

I thought about what I was. What species I considered myself to be. I was no Elsen, I knew that. I was not what the Batter was. Maybe Sugar and I were the same species but neither of us quite knew what species this was. We needed a variety of nutrition in order to survive, we needed to sleep a lot compared to other beings. There were a lot of things Sugar and me had in common anatomy-wise, there were also a lot of things we did not have in common but I refuse to think or speak about this.

I also thought about the Queen. I had met her in person before a few times. She was a graceful, elegant being and for many people she was the definition of the word 'beauty'. She had petted my head with her petite hand and called me 'little merchant'. She was very tall. She was also very kind and soft. She and Sugar were the only females I knew and they could not have been more different. Sugar, the brash, sassy, cocky and very forward sugar addict and Eloha, the graceful, tender, elegant and holy Queen.

A few other things crossed my mind as I sat there, however, none of those other things are worth thinking about again or being recalled properly. Beside the few thoughts about the Batter, of course, but those did not differ from the ones I usually had about him which I have explained before.

It felt like centuries had passed when I finally heard steps and a deep humming outside of the vault. Both of those things became louder and louder so I hid behind a few stacks of pies. The owner must have been coming. My assumption was proven to be right. After the clicking of the lock and the noise of the door opening I saw a huge man standing in the doorway. He was holding another few pies. He stacked them on top of each other in a corner close to me. As I observed the man do this I got close to remembering his name, but I never quite managed it. 

I was about to cheer internally for this being my chance to escape, but I then noticed that I should have used the time I had had to think of a proper plan for this situation. I highly doubted that this man would appreciate finding someone in his sacred pie vault so I had to attempt escaping without him being aware of it. While he was crouching down in the corner to check on one specific pie I tossed over a whole stack, half accidentally and half intentionally (though I do not quite know what I was intending, maybe confusion), yelled loudly and ran out. I heard the heavy footsteps of the heavy man and shoved the vault door shut and locked it again before making a run for it. By the looks of this guy he might have been able to take out the entire door if he desired to so I felt that I should hurry. 

Once I was outside again I noticed that the sun-like orb in the sky had wandered much further, it must have been past noon. So the agonizing long time I had spent in the vault had actually been a couple of hours and not only a few minutes that my waiting mentally expanded.

The Batter had to be awake by this time. If not then he must have been dead. That thought made me shudder. I glanced behind me. There was no one following me and I could not hear any footsteps anymore. The large person was either too hindered or had given up on the pursuit. I checked the inside of my bag. The pie was still alright. Excellent. 

I traveled back the way I came. As I walked along the plastic river again I saw more Elsen outside. I passed the bit of remaining sugar that I had observed being spilled earlier and hurried. Surely the Batter was busy purifying but just in case he was in my room I did not want to waste any time walking that I could be spending presenting my rare foodstuff to him.

I entered the room, slamming the door open. “Hello!” I shouted into the empty- no the room was not empty. It was not empty at all. My companion was inside and he was sitting in a corner. The moment I shouted he looked up at me. I looked down at him. Both of us stared. I looked deeply into his eyes. They were filled with terror. What the devil had happened? 

He got up slowly. I watched him. He approached me. His entire appearance was different from usual. I felt like his composure, his seriousness, his untouchable purity had a crack. Once he was in front of me, his gaze still on me and mine still on him, he hugged me. He hugged me tightly. He clutched me as if I was about to turn around and walk away and as if that was just the thing he wanted to prevent. 

“Whoa, there, friend. What happened to you?” I tried to chuckle, but nothing came out, I was overwhelmed by the sudden emotion that was poured into the atmosphere.

“Nothing.” He responded immediately and coldly.

“Whatever you say.” I hugged him back. “So there's no reason why you are suddenly all over me after being with me was just very convenient last night?”

“I assumed you were no longer alive. It made me feel terrible for some reason.”

I hesitated before responding, I shoved him away a little to look at him. “You thought I was dead?”

“There are spectres around, it was a reasonable assumption.” He tried to justify his belief. “I awoke without your presence and much to my discomfort you did not return for a few hours. I wanted to straighten any differences between us out so that you would still provide me with merchandise. But after a while I realized that you might no longer exist. I feared you had abandoned me unwillingly.”

So abandonment was a problem for him. Of course, the Player had left him to suffer like this. “So you were worried?”

“I believe so.” He held me tightly once again. “I still cannot explain why I feel uncomfortable and not well in such situations. But I cannot stop it.”

I swore that moment my entire face was red. It was not love. Maybe it was not even sincere caring and friendship, but it was a start. A small bud that had to be tended to and cared for. I smiled behind my mask which I then shoved upward the tiniest bit. I pulled him down by his shirt and stood on the tip of my toes.

When he let me kiss him, it was distant and static. 

He let me do it. But there was no warmth, yet. There was hardly any response. He still was himself, he still did not feel what I felt. But he let me kiss him. And I tilted my head and was content with that for now.


	8. Fragment 2, Part 2: Lady Luck

After the kiss I let go off him. I pulled my mask back into place only to freeze in my spot upon realizing what I had done. I wanted to look at him to see his expression, he was probably shocked or mad or both or something else entirely. But I was scared of his reaction so I hesitated before finally bringing myself to take a peek.

Nothing. His facial expression was as blank as ever.

I probably should have seen that coming a hundred miles ahead seeing as him showing emotion to the fullest might be a phenomenon unnatural enough to cause our universe to explode. He was just looking down at me, blinking every once in a while. The moment had become awkward. For me, at least. 

Despite everything, this was still a favorable situation. The Batter was with me, I could make a quick suggestion about what we could do. I could plan some kind of activity with him. I was caught in my own thoughts and only noticed that he had moved towards the door once I heard him speak up.

“I'm leaving now.” He said in that cold, monotone voice of his.

“No!” I shouted as if trying to prevent the end of the world. He froze and turned around to face me. I looked at him. I blushed in embarrassment behind my mask. “I mean...” I wanted to explain my outburst but there was nothing I could say that would justify it.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. “Is my leaving causing you trouble in some way?”

“Not exactly.” I said without thinking. It was not causing me trouble specifically. It just affected my plans and ruined them. “I only hoped that I could do something together with you instead. While I was out I felt a bit lonely. I enjoy your company a lot.” I attempted not to sound pathetic.

“Lonely?” He repeated. It sounded like that word had not been in his vocabulary until just then which I believed was impossible. 

“Yes, lonely. I'll be honest with you. I missed you a little.” 

“You missed me?” I was sure that I was scaring him now or at least confusing him a great deal. There might or might not have been a pink flush on his cheeks. I wanted to get close to him and make sure that my eyes were not lying to me. I wanted to examine every bit of the assumed blush. “You can accompany me. We could speak outside of battle if you wished to.” 

“Or we could just do something else!” I suggested. I grinned at him brightly. “You won't forget how to swing your bat just from taking a one-day break. And there are a lot of things we could do that do not involve beating spectres to their purification.” 

The Batter looked around in thought. It was apparent that he was thinking this through. He was probably considering every little detail of not purifying anything for once and doing something with me instead. Ever so often his gaze would land on me again and I caught myself at staring at the man when our eyes locked for a second. “This other sort of activity will restore your content, I take it?” He inquired.

“Yes. I will feel much better after doing something fun with you.” I assured. I noticed how dirty one might believe my sentence to be and I forced my gaze to the ground, but my companion thought of nothing bad or impure.

“Your intent is pure. I believe it is not a bad idea to do something else. I might even gather knowledge.” He seemed to be convincing himself, giving a nod to his own statements.

“Yup.” I simply agreed. “And happy merchants typically sell good wares at a lower price.” I added. Of course I did not want him to think of me as the merchant, but as his friend, but if it helped to convince him then one argument would not hurt.

“Alright. I shall submit to your ideas. What is it that you had in mind?”

My head was blank. I had nothing. I had not lied about the large amount of possibilities we had, however I had not thought of what activity would help me establish a proper emotional connection with the Batter and bring warmth into his cold soul. I just did not know what he would consider to be fun. He liked battle and all things pure. It was very likely that he enjoyed sports. I had seen him on pedalos before. They made him enjoy himself. “How about a pedalo race?” I concluded that until I thought of something better this might be a fairly decent idea.

“Why would you desire to have a competition with me?” He gave me his famous suspicious expression. He made it very often. I felt the need to print it on a shirt or a cup and sell it for good Credits. I just wondered who would buy that kind of stuff.

“It's not a serious competition. It's just for fun. But if you don't want to do a race I won't force you to. I can understand that having no chance against me is a terrible outlook to have for a competition.” 

He took that as a challenge. He gripped my arm and tugged me out of the building. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep up with his quick pace.

“I am headed to the closest pedalo station. I must show you your misconception right away.”

I laughed. “You will be heading for a while then, friend, if you keep walking into this direction.” I pointed out that we were walking the wrong way. Apparently his sense of orientation and direction got lost with the absence of his appreciated puppeteer.

He stopped at an instant, looked at me and spun around. He did not say a word to me and kept walking.

“Oh and you can let go off me or at least let me walk properly. You're close to dragging me over the ground.” I feared for the well-being of the pie that was still contained within my backpack.

He slowed down and let go off my arm. He took my hand instead. “Is this more pleasant?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” He said and resumed to walking quickly. We reached the pedalo station very soon. We summoned two of the duck-like boats. We could have gone to my amusement park which had a proper track for us to use, but there was no talking to the Batter when he was as determined as this and it would have taken a while to get there. I wondered who would win. I was not as certain of my victory as I had claimed to be earlier. I had only been provoking the Batter. But I did not believe my failure to be certain, either. 

I ran my hand over the smooth surface of the pedalo. I wanted to give it a stupid name. Seaborne objects should be given proper names. I shook that silly thought out of my head and placed my backpack onto the ground, careful not to damage the valuable pastry inside. I looked at the Batter. He seemed to be taking this race very seriously. He was stretching his limbs. It was not as if I did not enjoy watching him stretch, but I felt like he was incapable of simply having fun with this competition.

“So what should the course be and where do you want the finish line to be?” I asked him disturbing his stretching exercises. I believed that we did not need someone to judge fair play in this race. The Batter was a savior, a purifier, a hero of sorts. He was not going to cheat. I was none of those things but I despised cheating. It ruined the entire game.

He looked at me and then at the plastic. There was a tiny island within the sea. “We could use that.” He gestured towards it. I nodded in agreement.

“How about from here to there, then three laps around it and then the way back here? The winner is the first one to have his feet back on this ground.” I explained my idea.

“I approve of this method.” He told me and walked over to the pedalo on the right. He got in, careful not to tip it over. I followed his example.

Riding a pedalo was the easiest thing in the world. One had to use their feet to pedal, just as the name suggested, and lean sideways to make a turn. The only problem about them was the getting on and off. There was no way to attach them to the land they were close to so it would happen every once in a while that someone would tip a pedalo over and end up drenched in either meat or plastic, depending on what they had been trying to cross. This was probably one of the reasons why Elsen tried to avoid using pedalos.

“How should we start?” My companion questioned. “We need a fair and impartial countdown or a judge.” 

He had a point. I was about to suggest that one of us would simply count down from three but that would give this person an unfair advantage. “I could get an Elsen.” I suggested. “Just don't startle him.” I climbed out of the pedalo. I walked away from my companion and the 'race track'. This had to be the silliest idea that I had ever thought of, let alone pulled off. And yet, the Batter seemed to like it. 

It did not take long for me to find an Elsen. I explained the situation to him but he just stared at me in terror at being asked to do something more complicated than memorizing a four number code or telling people they could not pass. I moved on. As I stated before, Elsen are all very alike. But they are not quite the same. If you are lucky you can find that one 'bold' person in the crowd that will do something else than the usual routine. Apparently, Lady Luck had her eye on me as I only had to ask two more Elsen before finding one that agreed to do the Batter and me a favor (not without pay, though, I promised him sugar, which was no big deal, seeing as my trusty backpack provided me with everything everyday). 

I returned with that one brave Elsen. It looked like my companion had not moved an inch. He was sitting up straight in his pedalo, his back turned to us. I then saw his bat beside my backpack and I realized that he must have moved to put it there. Then I realized that I was thinking about pointless things instead of saying or doing anything. I looked at the Elsen and gave him a thumbs-up before getting back into my racing duck. “I found someone to help us.” The Batter nodded.

I turned around again to look at the shaking man. He was clutching his tie as nervousness caused him to glance around and lose focus on me. “Just like I told you.” I said to him, trying to calm the poor guy. I wondered whether he might faint.

“Ready...” He muttered, but it was loud enough. I turned around. I glanced one last time at my companion. He was ready to raise each and every hell to beat me in a simple race. I did not know whether that was admirable or just very terrifying.

“Steady...” I looked in front of me again. Suddenly the small island that was our focus seemed much further away. 

“Go!” I could hear the Elsen wince at his own scream. 

The race begun. Both of us were headed into the same direction, of course. Just like I had figured, my companion had strong legs and he knew how to use them for this. But I was not weak myself. I tried to nudge his pedalo away a little, which resulted in me ramming my vehicle into his. I caught a glare from him and praised Lady Luck yet again for the Batter did not have his bat at hand or he might have done more damage to me than the duck I was riding. 

After the second lap my body was getting tired from using all the power I had. I had underestimated these small duck-shaped boats. I looked at my opponent. He was still doing very well, better than me in fact. I did not mind though. If he lost he might challenge me for a revenge and I could not do that to my muscles. So even if I had not been tired already I would have let him win. Once we were both headed for the land again I decided to take it easy seeing as I was on the verge of losing, anyway. I stopped moving entirely and just watched lazily as the plastic splashed away from my companion's pedalo.

He reached the land and got out. I just drifted on the plastic with no intention of moving. But I could not remain there or he might come and get me or leave. I made my way to the finishing line slowly. I got out and sat down on the floor. The Elsen pointed at the Batter. “Uh, he won.” The man said in a shaky voice. 

My companion puffed his chest in pride and looked down on me. Literally and metaphorically. “Did you understand your misconception?” That was a very cocky thing to say for an emotionless cold fish. 

“My calves certainly understood.” I responded and chuckled before resting on my back, my limbs spread. “This was fun.” I pillowed my head on my arms and closed my eyes. I heard someone sit down beside me.

“I agree.” 

My eyes shot open and I looked at the source of the voice. The Batter was adjusting his cap on his head. I smiled to myself and closed my eyes again. “To be honest, I didn't think you'd take a silly race this seriously.”

“I was challenged.” He justified his ambition.

“You sure were.”

“Ehrm.” The Elsen made himself noticeable. “What about the sugar?” He asked.

“Of course, of course.” I sat up again and reached out for my backpack, finding myself being too lazy to get up to retrieve it. “No need to rush, I've had enough of that for now.” 

“I am sorry.” He muttered.

“You shouldn't be.” I finally got a hold of the bag and pulled it into my lap. I winced. I did not have any sugar on me. Usually my backpack could provide me with sugar at any given moment. I always had some with me. Unfortunately, that day was a very rare exception. I glanced over my shoulder. The Elsen was impatiently moving from one foot to the other. He looked at me, expectation in his eyes.

I continued digging in the backpack, trying to find just one bag of sugar, just a little bit so I could sustain him until I got some more. There was nothing. Not one bit, not a pinch of the white element. There was only the pie and a few Credits. Both of those were far less valuable than sugar. To an Elsen at least. I turned back to him. “Can I pay you back later?” I asked. He was not going to say yes.

“Why?” He stuttered and stared at me with wide eyes. “Why?” He repeated.

“I don't have any sugar on me. At the moment.” I tried to explain. I felt heat radiating from the guy's body and I scooted away a little. I bit my bottom lip. 

“No sugar?” He stuttered more. He made a high pitched gasp. 

The next thing I saw was a burnt Elsen charging at me at full speed. I gasped and reached around me, trying to find something to defend myself with. I found nothing. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the impact and I felt – nothing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The Batter was standing in front of me in a fighting stance. He had swung his bat at the adversary, sending him flying backward a few feet. He glanced down at me for a short moment. “Stay.” He ordered. I remained on my spot, obedient as a pet dog. The savior, my savior, ran forward and slammed his holy weapon into the Burnt once more. He took a hit, as well. His Add-Ons finally appeared and got into motion. They began slamming into the enemy and one of them was, just like a few days earlier, in front of me, shielding me from any blows.

The battle ended quickly and I got up. The Batter turned around and looked at me. He walked over to me. I expected a scolding of the worst kind but only received a few gentle but serious words. “Take better care.” The Add-Ons vanished again. I looked at the spot where the Elsen had combusted. I had become terribly careless.

The hero and I sat down again. “I'm sorry.” I apologized. I felt like I had ruined the entire day by being careless.

“There is no need for apologies. I believe I have told you previously that I enjoy my purifying work. But you forced me to be concerned again. I will not explain you once more that I do not wish to see you harmed.” He kept his composure, but I could feel a hint of pain in his voice. 

“So there is a need for apologies.” I stated. “Anyway. This is the second time you've saved me. I'm really grateful, friend. How about I thank you with some pie?”

“Pie? You have retrieved such a pastry?” He seemed genuinely interested.

I chuckled and took the pie out of my backpack. I immediately noticed that I should have brought a knife or a dagger or a sword to cut it. My pocket knife would not be of much use due to its size. “Yes! I was out to get one earlier, when I... worried you for the first time today.” I blushed a little underneath my mask. “I figured you would like it.” I decided not to explain that I had believed that he would not know of the existence of pies. “But I forgot to bring something we could cut it with.”

The pure man looked at the pastry in my hands. If gazes had been able to eat, the pie would have disappeared at an instant. “I have not tasted a food like the one in your hands for a very long time. Where did you get it?”

I hesitated. I should not tell him about me stealing the food and making a run for it. Thievery was probably a very impure act in his opinion. “Oh some acquaintance of mine makes tons of them.” I shrugged a little bit. I took out my pocket knife and opened it. There was no other way.

“That weapon is too small to cut through the meal properly.”

“Well it's all I have.” I remarked. There was no response from the Batter so I assumed that he had no better idea or a better object of his own. I began to cut the pie. He had been right. The pieces became messy and uneven, but in the end it would not change the taste. I wiped my knife off on a tissue. “Help yourself.” I said as I saw him look at the pastry with hunger. I shoved up my mask a bit after putting away the pocketknife. 

The man beside me took a piece and held it with care. I wondered how mad he would get if he were to ruin his white and clean clothing with a drop of fruity juice. I watched him take a bite, not realizing that I was staring. His eyes closed in delight and I smiled. “Is it good?” I asked. He simply nodded, minding his manners and not speaking with a full mouth. He swallowed and looked at me. 

“It is delicious. Thank you for bringing it.” He took another bite.

“Sure thing.” I then took a slice for myself and began to eat, too. And this is how I sat down with the Batter, taking all the time in the world and eating pie peacefully. We looked at each other now and then and while his uniform remained pure white, my sweater was covered in crumbs once I was done. 

This seemed to disturb my companion. After finishing his last slice he reached out and dusted my shirt off with his hand. “You made a mess.” He explained. I felt heat rising to my cheeks. But that was not the end of it. Apparently I had a piece of fruit on my face, close to my mouth, because the next stop his hand made was just there. He stroked my skin softly with his thumb and I felt my heart pound rapidly in my chest. He removed his hand again to reveal the piece of fruit to me. 

He licked it off.

I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but it was one, because it caused the speed of my heart to increase and a million warm butterflies to be released into my stomach. Without my permission, obviously. I pulled my mask back into place. “Thank you.” I muttered.

He nodded to me in response as he wiped his thumb on a handkerchief. “Shall we head back?” He asked and looked into the direction we had come from earlier. 

“No.” I responded. “Let's stay here a bit longer. It's very nice out right now.” I smiled.

“Sure.”

We sat there in silence for a while, both of us thinking our own thoughts. I scooted closer to him as the peace took over. He looked down at me. “Do you wish to lean onto me?” He offered. 

I chuckled. “You're making offers now? Don't copy me.”I leaned onto him.

“I was only being polite. I have noticed that you enjoyed it before. It is quite comfortable for me, too.” He admitted. 

After a few more minutes I spoke up again.

“The day is slowly coming to an end.”

“There is still some time remaining.”

“I know.” I said. “But I don't have any plans, so it's okay for the night to come now. Today was already a nice day.”

“I agree.” My companion stated and I felt him squeeze me a little, but that might have been accidental as he was shifting into a more comfortable position. “This day held many unlikely events. It was not an ordinary day.”

“I sure hope so.” I chuckled. “I also hope that that doesn't mean that you didn't enjoy yourself.”

“I assure you that that is not the case. I appreciate the day and the activity you challenged me to.” His voice was still very monotone, but I was happy about what he said nonetheless.

I snuggled into him. “So, you want to do something like that again sometime?”

“I shall partake in another enjoyable activity with you if you suggest one. I did not regret doing what you desired.” 

“That's good. That's very good.” Not regretting was very close to sincerely liking it. 

As we sat there together and watched the day pass, nothing important on our minds, no weapons in our hands I felt truly happy and I felt incapable of conceiving my luck of being this close with someone I cared for this much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my precious friends.
> 
> I can't believe we're already eight chapters in, I might even beat my habit of discontinueing everything I start!  
> I just wanna make a quick note here before letting you guys move on with your day:
> 
> Thank you so very, very much for all the kudos and the comments you have given me so far~! :3
> 
> These comments really give me an encouraging push when I am stuck in a spot trying to write or feel insecure about my writing (both of which tends to happen quite a lot). 
> 
> So thanks again! ~ aN
> 
> (Also I must thank my friends Beepony and Spaghetti Svein (a.k.a. Frajic) for encouraging me all the time and kicking my lazy ass out of the I'm-so-terrible-mood. I love you two <3)


	9. Fragment 2, Part 3: One's self

The next morning I woke up in an empty room. The room was familiar to me, very familiar by now, but it still felt cold and it did not feel like home. I do not know whether anything had ever felt like home to me, since I tended to travel almost always and I did not recall any events from my childhood. 

I stood up, got dressed and collected and put away my possessions, including my sleeping bag and mat. I had grown very used to this daily and ever repeating routine that it had become like a choreography of putting things on and putting things away. I stretched. I did not bother worrying about where the Batter had run off to. He was probably fighting spectres. I had not made any other suggestion about what to do that day and there was nothing to keep him from leaving and pummeling the ghostly phantoms. 

I thought about what I should do with the day seeing as I had some time to kill at least until my companion returned from his battling. Sugar popped into my head as if out of nowhere and I felt the strange desire to go and visit my sweetest of friends. I remembered opening the heavy trapdoor for her freedom so it was very possible that she was no longer in the room I had asked her to stay in some time ago. But it was worth trying. She was probably going insane with boredom and would appreciate some company and a nice conversation. Especially if she had actually remained in Zone 0.

It was decided. I pulled my heavy backpack onto my back after shoving in some of the remaining pie that the Batter had insisted on bringing back here. I knew from experience that Sugar was incredibly fond of pie, only if it was at least a little sweet, though, she would be glad to have a piece. I had packed my usual merchandise and items into the bag as soon as we returned to this room in order to avoid slipping into another situation like the Elsen one. I walked out of the door, shoved it shut with my foot and left. Just like a few days prior I traveled to the golden Zone. As soon as I had entered it I stopped walking.

I looked at the entrance to the room with the code on the wall. The room that contained a trap door which had ceased to be secret after my last visit. The room had been a connection between the outside world and a dangerous, sweet girl that had resided there. I felt like she was no longer present and could not think of any reason why she would be. She was an independent entity, capable of making her own decisions and defending herself. She must have felt like an animal in a zoo trapped in that tiny basement.

I approached the door nonetheless to confirm my hunch. However, after I had walked a few steps I heard a noise that had obviously come from a feline. “What are you doing?” A familiar voice asked me. I looked up and saw a cat sitting on top of the room I was planning on entering. He was looking down at me from the corners of his eyes as he cleaned his paw with his flat tongue, taking breaks only to speak to me.

“Hello, feline friend.” I greeted the animal. I was certain that I had met him somewhere before. Maybe I had seen him stroll around a zone now and then. Cats were rather rare so if one saw a feline being they would remember said being for sure. 

The cat tilted his head and stopped licking his small paw. He narrowed his eyes. “Something is off about you, Zacharie. Are you feeling fine?”

The cat knew my name which confused me. I had maybe met him once or twice before, I did not recall ever speaking with a cat or a cat-like creature. I had to get behind this“You know me?” I blurted out.

“Of course I know you.” The cat jumped from his high spot above the door and walked over to me. I took a cautious step back. He knew me. I was uncertain whether I could consider him to be a friend or a fiend so I readied myself to reach for my weapon any moment. He just sat there, though, and looked up at me. “And you know me.” He finally added.

I was dumbfounded. I stared at the white animal. The longer I stared the more helpless I felt. Deep down I knew that I had some connection to this cat, but my mind could not establish what type of connection this was. “I know you.” I agreed, but I could not continue or elaborate. The cat seemed to feel a mixture of worry and irritation.

“I am your friend, the Judge. You prefer to call me Pablo. Do you remember?”

Upon hearing his name a bunch of memories, images of Pablo and myself, rained over me. I recalled the cat's identity, remembered moments of our friendship and thought of the cat's traits. “Pablo!” I said loudly, I was close to hugging him but I did not do so. “Of course, I remember.” 

The Judge sighed and nodded in relief. “What has happened to you?” He asked.

What had happened to me? Not that much. Or at least not as much as what was happening to someone else. I was not the one suffering from being stuck in the same spot constantly with no way to ever advance or achieve my purpose or the goal of my mission. I was just the puny merchant that hung around the hero. What did happen to me was the memory loss, which Pablo was probably referring to. I looked at the white feline. I was uncertain about whether to tell him the truth. He knew of the existence of the puppeteer, what would he think about their vanishing? “I am losing my memory.” I said.

The cat in front of me seemingly froze staring at me with wide eyes. “You are experiencing troubles attempting to remember certain aspects of your life?”

“That's what losing one's memory usually means, yep.” I answered. “You seem more shocked than I'd expect you to be.”

Pablo narrowed his eyes. “I have been suffering from memory loss, as well. Not too much but I have forgotten the ways to certain areas of certain Zones. So far I was in no need of traveling there, but I feel very troubled and bothered just by knowing that I do no longer know these things.” He sighed heavily and rested his head on his paws. “What is really grinding my gears is that I do not know why this is suddenly happening to me. And to you, too.” 

I hesitated before speaking up. “I think I know why.”

He raised his head and his ears and looked at me with expectation in his eyes.

I decided to sit down in front of him, feeling my neck slowly becoming stiff from staring down. I sat down cross-legged and raised my voice again. “You know about the Player, right? The puppeteer that controls the Batter?”

“I have been introduced, I believe.”

“They went missing.” I bit my bottom lip before continuing. “For a while now actually. The Batter has been stuck in the same place, he can't do anything to purify the Zone he's in, he can't learn new competence moves, he can't even get past the next door. And I know that I used to be able to recite every single password, every code, every number that was of importance until I was in front of that locked door. It seems that this whole world only works the way it's supposed to with the Player around. An obvious logical rule that makes sense, but it means, of course, that if the puppeteer chooses to abandon the Batter everyone in here is lost.”

Pablo, who was usually filled with composure, now seemed terrified and scared of the fate of this world, the fate of every single one living within it. “So we are practically stuck? Whatever you were speaking about, the game, the purpose, it no longer exists?” He seemed a bit more relieved then. “But this is not necessarily bad, is it? It means we can make choices and live lives without being tied to a determined fate.”

“I didn't think you'd take an optimistic approach at this.” I admitted.

“I am not usually an optimist, but in this case I dare say that optimism might be the best attitude.”

“Pablo, friend, I don't want to ruin your good mood and joy about this, but I feel like I have to make sure that you know what all this means. You may lose your memory completely. Tomorrow, this time, you might have forgotten who I am or who you are. And I'm not even sure whether anyone is able to die here anymore, save for some spectres. We will be figures without memories or thoughts existing for eternity without a purpose.” My voice rose. “Like immortal puppets that were cut lose from their strings!” I was almost shouting.

“Calm yourself, merchant!” The white cat hissed at me with a glare. “What happened to your laid back, calm self? Lose your memories, lose your so-called purpose, it does not matter as long you do not lose yourself, but that is what you are doing.”

I felt like his voice was repeatedly giving me the backhand. 

“Zacharie.” He started, the hiss vanished. “There is something else going on. Not with this world but with you as a person. What is it?” 

I stayed quiet. Pablo had never been the person I went to with personal issues. As the Judge he was capable of giving good advice, but not with emotional facts. Sugar was my friend for that. She was the one who helped me with emotions and relationships and personal problems, not the Judge. 

He seemed to pick up on my discomfort. “You are aware that I have never been interested or meddlesome about personal matters, but if you speak the truth about what is happening, then I feel obligated to know more about you, about your situation. Keeping up with recent events helps one train their memory, memorizing things about a person will help one know the person better. If anything, it might help reducing the memory loss, it will not prevent anything if it is as severe as believed, but it is possible that we will be able to keep it away for a bit. And even if it is only one more day of knowing, it is one more day of eternity that was well spent.”

Pablo was probably the most eloquent person I had the pleasure of speaking to. And he was very persuasive which probably had its perks. I looked at him from behind my mask. For a brief moment I wondered whether he had ever seen my face. He never pried, it was very likely that he had not seen it. “How did you learn to be so convincing?”

The cat made his wide grin, it was like a trademark. “Am I convincing or are you only easily convinced?”

I chuckled. “It would be very unfortunate for a merchant to be convinced that easily. I would be broke in that case.” I chuckled again. “But before I digress too much I'll just answer your question as to what is going on with me.” I wondered how he would take the news. I had been wrong about Sugar's reaction. I thought that Pablo might react with indifference, a different kind of indifference than the one the Batter shielded himself with, but with similar qualities. Or maybe he would be mad for reasons neither of us would understand. “Well first of all I released Sugar from her prison and am worried about her condition.”

“I have noticed that Sucre was absent. I believe that she is alright, though.” Pablo nodded to me, attempting to reassure me. 

“But that's not my biggest concern or problem. Recently I started hanging out with the Batter much more than just on occasion or for merchant purposes. I have developed a crush, romantic feelings for him. And I told him about them. You don't know much about him, I guess, but I think you know enough to predict that this kind of relationship isn't really mutual and not working like I wish it was. I guess it's starting to get better in some way, but it looks like it's going to be more than just a bumpy road until he feels actual happiness in my presence. Or happiness at all. I'm going to have to climb and fall from walls to get what I want.”

Pablo nodded along every now and then, showing that he was mentally following me.

“He cares about purifying only. It was what he was meant to do and I understand that, but why that has to go hand in hand with him not having or showing emotions, I don't know. And it's upsetting to say the least. Whenever I see a spark of the sapling of a feeling I feel like it was a major achievement. I don't think that I'm as troubled or worried about this as I was a little while ago, because he seemed content to do something beside spectre beating yesterday. We had fun until one Elsen went burnt. And even that didn't ruin the day. So the Batter is pretty much occupying my brain all the time without knowing it. I suppose that it's a normal condition for me to be in but it's just really distracting. Not only in my everyday life but it's also distracting me from recent issues. Considering what is also happening to me at the same time, I should be more worried. I wish the puppeteer would just return so we can all go on with our fated lives.”

The cat had taken the time as I talked to get comfortable and lay on his side, but I could tell that his attention was still on me, he was a very observant and intelligent being, one should never assume that he was not paying attention. “I understand your situation and distress. Although I have a hard time understanding why precisely you would be interested in the Batter and not, for example, Sucre. But that is probably not even your choice. I wish I could give you proper advice about what you should do, but I am not familiar with this sort of thing. Doing what you are doing, attempting to achieve your goal and not giving up seems to be the right solution. I do not know whether you should wish for the puppeteer's return, though.”

“Why wouldn't I?” I tilted my head and raised and eyebrow.

“Why do you desire their return?” He licked one of his paws, his eyes shut.

I looked down. The answer was so simple, was it not? There was no reason for Pablo to ask me this. He knew why. He was trying to nudge me into thinking and criticizing my own thoughts but I saw no fault in wishing that the Player would return to the game. The Batter would be able to continue, he would be happier, no one would lose their memory, everything would work out. “Because I don't want to lost my memory and because I want my companion to be able to do what he wishes. Because I don't want to be stuck in this place and feel like everything I experience never really happened and like I have lost the sole purpose I was given. Because of all that and more.”

“But your heart's desire is to be with the Batter, is it not?” The Judge asked, his eyes opening to pierce me with their gaze.

“Yes, so?” 

“So nothing.” He stopped licking his paw. “I was merely making an observation.”

“You have to tell me what this observation was about, Pablo.” I grimaced behind my mask.

Pablo sat up. “I do not have to do anything and I believe that it is better if I do just that. Nothing. If it truly, and not only in your own opinion, is important for you to find out about this observation you will and if it is not you will not. It is as simple as that.”

“This is not the right time for you to try to be mysterious. I am already very stressed.” 

“I am not attempting to be anything more or less than I already am. If you wish to relieve some of your built up stress I would be happy to challenge you to a party of chess. Provided that you brought the board and pieces with you.” He smiled, he appeared genuinely interested to play the strategic board game with me. 

“I always bring everything with me.” That was not completely true. I remembered the incident from one day prior. When the Batter became my savior once again and I hurriedly packed everything back into the bag once we had returned to our usual room. “Almost always, at least.” I corrected myself. I took my backpack from my back and put it in my lap. I opened it and began to search the contents for the box that held the chess game. “I have actually battled the Batter with chess.”

“Is that so?” Pablo asked. “How was the game?”

I took out a box, believing it was the object I was looking for, but instead taking out a small package that contained something I had no idea of what it was, I put it back in and continued my search. “He is a worthy adversary in chess. His style is very different from yours. I defended my pride, though and beat him. This outcome surprised him more than me, actually. But in return he won at a race we had.”

“I suspected as much.” The Judge nodded in approval again. “You would win against him in a strategic game. And he would more than win in an athletic battle.”

“Are you implying that I'm lazy?” I played offended, showing very obviously that I was only joking and not being serious so I could be certain Pablo was aware of the playful nature of my statement. He just rolled his eyes so I said nothing and smirked. I finally found what I was looking for. “There we go.”

Pablo smiled upon seeing the chess box in my hands. I began to set up the game. His lack of fingers meant that I was in charge of setting up the game as well as often placing his pieces to the correct position. “Have you played this with Sucre?” He asked and came a bit closer to observe the board more properly.

“Chess? No way. She wouldn't be able to focus on it for a minute, let alone the time one game takes. No, I play go cold fish with her.” I placed more pieces onto the board.

“Pardon?”

“Go fish. You know, that game where you ask your opponent for cards try to get four of one kind?” I looked at him for a second before returning my attention to the chess board.

“Yes, I merely-” He hesitated. “I believe I misheard you which confused me.” He shrugged.

“Alright.” I finished spreading the pieces and the game began immediately. Once again I was utilizing the black pieces while my opponent was using the white ones. During the game I remembered my chess battle against my beloved Batter. I would like to say that I wiped the floor with him, but it was a really tight victory for me which I had almost had problems achieving.

My mental absence seemed to give Pablo more than just an advantage. The game ended really quickly with him having lost almost no pieces but me having lost almost all of mine. We agreed to have another one and determine the winner with two out of three, but the next battle went the same way.

“You appear distracted.” My friend remarked. “Is it the Batter you are thinking about?”

I began to shove the pieces back into their box “Maybe.” I snickered and teased.

Pablo sighed. “Make sure that you keep that head on your shoulders.”

“What do you mean?”

“With recent events I think following and having feelings for the Batter is unwise. Very unwise.”

I wanted to glare at him but when he said something he usually had a point so I held back the anger that he was creating. “How?” 

“You know his personality, you have observed his behavior. I have a bad feeling about him and my feelings do not toy with me, usually. I just think that the least you can do is keep your eyes open and stay aware of your surroundings and everything that is happening. Do not put too much trust in him.”

I shoved the box into the bag again. “I can trust him if I think it's right.”

“Of course you can.”

“I can spend as much time with him as I want.”

“Of course. Zacharie. I am only giving you advice as a friend and as the Judge. What you do and whether you take this advice is entirely up to you.”

“Yes, well, thank you.” I looked down as I closed my backpack and put it back onto my back

“Are you taking your leave?” He asked.

“Do you want me to?”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, not at all. But I was planning on leaving soon myself. I will try to find the paths I have lost memory of. Maybe discovering them again might help me remember other things, as well. Such as the whereabouts of my sweet brother Valerie.”

I got up. “I see. In that case I won't stop you. You said Sugar wasn't here anymore, right?”

“I believe so.”

I stretched my tired limbs. “In that case I'll head out. It was good to see you, Pablo. We should do this again soon.”

“It was my pleasure and I am looking forward to our next encounter.” He got onto the top of the room again. “Fair well, masked merchant. Take care of yourself.” I nodded and watched him leave. 

I left as well only a few moments later.

I left Zone 0 and wandered around. I did not feel the need to return to the usual place right away. The Batter was probably not present at that time so there was nothing appealing about that place, nothing that would cause me to want to return to it. 

Instead I decided to take a walk with no specific destination. I hoped to encounter Sugar on this walk, but I was not looking for her or trying to find her. The girl had the talent of vanishing into thin air when someone was looking for her or in desperate need of talking to her. I walked through Zone after Zone, met Elsen, avoided spectres that refused to do the same with me and took a break to eat some of the leftover pie that I was carrying around. I thought about getting another one soon, since the Batter had enjoyed it and I in turn enjoyed making him happy or content at least. 

The time flew by much faster than I thought and I felt that it was past noon. It had been a few hours since I had woken up from my slumber and my companion would probably return to our usual place soon to take a break or do something other than purifying. Then again he was not interested in anything or much beside purifying so he was probably only trying to relax a little. If he was capable of relaxing. 

I walked back in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys. I'm really sorry about the pause. I got so darn busy and then I lost my muse. Never say you'll beat a habit of discontinueing or fate will deliver a bunch of crap to you. 
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me and as always thanks for reading.
> 
> Comment, please ^^


	10. Fragment 2, Part 4: Beauty

Time started to fly by, days and nights.

If one takes two steps forward and one step back and then again two forward and then repeats that very procedure for a long time, they are moving very slowly but will meet their goal eventually. That is how I believe my relationship with the Batter was going.

Some time had passed and the Batter and I had spent some of those days together, some apart. The talk with Pablo seemed very distant to me by then, but the concerns and doubts it had put in my mind were still keeping me company. I wished for them to leave but they would not do so. My memory loss increased which added more worries to the list.

I fought them out of my head whenever I was with my companion, though, to enjoy that time to its fullest. The Batter was still himself. Stoic, cold, determined to purify. And yet, something had begun to change over those days. It seemed that he welcomed new ideas of how to kill some time more. He appeared more interested in suggestions and only slightly less focused on battle. It was obvious to anyone that having the Batter become a compassionate, warm being was impossible. But if anything he was slowly, very slowly, becoming something close to it. But this process took a long time and support. 

So we were sitting there, days after my discussion with Pablo, days after meeting Sugar, days after everything that seemed like an eternity ago. We were sitting on the roof of a house, our legs hanging down. We were side by side. It still felt weird to be close to him, yet not saying a word, not trying to convince him to do or buy anything. I had not even planned on ending up sitting with him like this. I had merely suggested taking a walk together to see whether anything interesting or dangerous was going on.

The Batter's eyes had lit up with a spark of delight at this idea. I did not want to imagine what monsters or scenes he had hoped to run into. Surely it was not the time with me he was excited about, I knew all too well that that could not be it. 

I was looking at my feet, the air felt heavy on my shoulders as if it was pushing me down. Despite that I suppose I cannot blame my bad posture on the air. If my companion had been happy or content or excited about this walk earlier then all of those positive and motivating emotions had taken their leave by now. There was nothing out of the ordinary going on. I had not even seen Sugar. 

I glanced at my companion's hand. It was wrapped tightly around his weapon, he was ready to beat and kill anything that would attack. His grip on the bat was so firm that his knuckles were white like snow, sticking out from underneath his already incredibly pale skin. They were like snow covered mountain tops in a snowy mountain scenery.

Although I had never promised him battle or action I felt like I had encouraged his hopes by mentioning the possibility and was thus responsible for said hopes being crushed. I wanted to do something to make it up to him, something to make him happy and glad that he joined me on my walk. Our relationship, if you wish to call it that, was very fragile at that state. He was only beginning to accept me as his companion and as an equal, I could not let one bad experience set us back.

“Hey, Batter.”

He turned to me instantly. “Zacharie.” His voice wrapped around my name caused me to melt on the inside. 

“Do you want to fight?”

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. He turned to look into the distance ahead of us. “I feel the desire to, yes. But it seems that there are no spectres residing in this certain area. I shall not complain about this situation, though. Purity is holy, this area is benefiting from it.”

“Well, you don't have to fight spectres. There are other things, other people that you could battle.” I tried to drop some hints so that maybe he would understand what I was suggesting. I could not believe my own thoughts concerning the idea that was slowly developing and flourishing in my head.

His gaze rested on my mask again. “Are you suggesting that I shall go and find a Burnt? Or cause an Elsen to become burnt?”

“Of course not.” I spat out. Those poor little creatures had to suffer enough without some bat wielding maniac trying to live out his desire to fight using them as helpless and partially defenseless opponents. “I was trying to suggest that you fight me.” I believed that with that I had taken the shovel to dig my grave with.

“You wish for me to fight you?” His gaze showed his surprise. “Why? Have I wronged you? Do you wish to fight me for revenge?” He was genuinely interested in the reason for my offer, it was not hard to tell. That was a trait he had learned to be capable of showing in those few days. Curiosity. A bit of concern was mixed into it even. It was a low percentage emotion cocktail. I was sure I could get some more percent in there in time.

“Calm down-”

“I am calm.” He insisted, interrupting me. How rude.

“Well then just stay that way. I don't have any beef with you, I don't have any personal reasons to fight you or a problem with you and there's nothing that I could want revenge for. But keep in mind that pretending to want to have a relationship with me for selfish purposes was a bad move.” I frowned for a moment to put emphasis on what I was trying to say. Upon realizing that he could not see it, anyway, I continued. “I was only thinking that since you want to fight so badly but there's no spectres you might want to fight me instead.”

“I do not feel any hostility or impurity from you, there is no reason for me to fight you.”

“Fun is a pretty decent reason in my opinion. Besides, wouldn't it be great to have a battle with someone that will not disappear after one or two strikes of your bat?”

The Batter looked into the distance again. “I suppose that would be marvelous. But you do not appear to be that someone. I do not recall you being good at fighting and even less good at defending.”

He had to bring it up. The times that he saved me. I was not weak, I could fight and defend myself. I even had a weapon of choice that I was very skilled with. But in order not to alert him or cause distrust and discomfort within him I had kept my weapon sealed and hidden. “Trust me, I'm better than what you saw.” I got up and held out my hand to him in order to help him up.

He did not budge, did not reach for my hand or look at me. “I shall not fight you, merchant.”

I twitched, my hand dropped. That word. Merchant. He was not supposed to call me that. There were so many other things he could have said, my name above all, but he had to call me merchant. “Why not?” I brought out those two little words between my grinding teeth.

“I do not wish or hope to harm you or to see you hurt.” He got up on his own and looked down at me. “You are correct. A better opponent than the phantoms would be welcomed. I would enjoy a fight with a more skilled entity. But not you. I do not despise you, do not hate you. I refuse to swing my bat at you.”

“Then don't.” That statement sounded far more snippy than I had expected or intended it to, so I explained. “You have hands, don't you? Use them instead.”

“I was not being literal. I was referring to weapons or means of hurting you in general.”

I sighed. “I have plenty of luck and fortune tickets. I don't think that I will need them and just in case I also have a bunch of Jokers. I don't think that I am even capable of dying while the Player is away.” I looked up at him. I did not understand myself. I was pleading to get beaten up by someone I would have enjoyed calling my boyfriend. Maybe I just enjoyed that sort of thing? “Please, you know you want to.”

“I fail to understand why you wish for this to happen.” 

I shrugged. “I just like seeing you happy and content. And I think you expected more from this little walk than what actually happened. I really want you to be in a good mood. That's what someone does when they think and feel the way I do.” I shrugged once more.

“What weapon do you choose?” 

I hesitated. It was not time to reveal to him that I actually had a really good weapon, it had to wait. “I'll just use my body, I can be agile.” I grinned at him. It seemed he was actually taking my offer. I put down my trusty backpack.

“In that case I shall not use any object, either.”

This was not what I had hoped for. Obviously it was only fair for him to put down his weapon and safer for me in any case but I did not want us to just go at it and punch each other. Neither of us needed stress relief, it was simply an exercise for fun not to cause broken noses and bruises.  
“Batter.” I hesitated to say anything. “I don't think not using weapons at all is a good idea, it might end up barbaric. And it's only for fun, after all.”

“You wish for me to use my bat?”

“I do.” I chirped.

“And you will not use any weapon to challenge me? That is unwise.”

I shrugged. “I can just dodge, I'm far more agile than you'd expect.”

“But if you are relying on agility and making this a match of attack and dodging it will be one-sided and not a battle worth fighting.”

I glanced at my backpack on the floor. I reached inside and pulled out a bat that was evenly matched to the one of the Batter. In quality, at least. “Alright, I'll just use this.” I had not wanted to use a bat since it was his weapon of choice and I was not very skilled with it. If I lost to my companion when only dodging or using my bare hands I would go down with pride since I tried despite being at disadvantage. Using this bat I would go down swinging and failing to do anything like a moron.

“How do you intend to determine the winner? I refuse to let another Elsen stand by.” An understandable refusal.

“I think the winner becomes obvious at some point. For example when one is pinned down or unable to move from his spot or something like that. We don't need anyone to keep watch. Just remember, I'm not actually trying to cause you damage so don't pummel me too badly.” I snickered.

“Of course.” 

Without any further explanation or warning he charged at me. It was a terrifying sight. His bat was raised, his facial expression showed absolute determination and he was running towards me. I froze for a second. I dodged the attack in the last moment. He did not rest. He charged again immediately. And I thought he would need a few seconds between the hits, but apparently that was not the case without Add-Ons. I was lucky that he was not using those. 

I raised my bat to block his swing this time. His fighting method, although strong, was very simple and easy to understand. As far as I was concerned at that moment there was no wider strategy, no deeper idea than simply swinging at any obstacle and adversary that was in one's way. He hit the bat that was blocking his bat's path to my body repeatedly, causing me to have to step backward every single time. 

I then slipped to the side quickly and tried to hit his side with the bat. I regretted trying to hurt him in mid-swing and the attack became slow and weak and my hesitation and regret was punished when I felt his bat hit my shoulder. I pulled a luck ticket out of my pants pocket and used it immediately. I then stepped a few more feet away from him. I had to think of a tactic. Or at least I had to stop worrying about hurting him, he could take it, I knew he could. 

He came at me again and I responded by running toward him. I held my bat up high, mirroring him. But the moment before he could hit me I acted. Instead of slamming the bat into his torso or arms I used it to swipe away one of his legs, making him stumble. I pushed him and as he had a hard time regaining his balance hit his side with my bat. He fell but picked himself up quickly. He took a second to look at me in surprise. He then attacked again. His bat was coming for me from a different angle that time and I decided to play defensive and dodged it again. Or so I thought.

It did approach me from a different angle but that was only happening for a short moment to lure me into making a wrong move. The Batter's tactic proved successful. He pulled his bat and used his usual angle quickly, causing me to take another hit. 

I stumbled around, my head became dizzy. I had to get rid of that annoying bat of his or he would easily dominate this battle. He was much taller and much more athletic than me. I had my fair share of skill but not with a bat. He waited politely until I regained my balance and composure, at least he was not trying to murder me. But once I was standing up straight, he went for another strike. I dodged it fairly easily.

He tried it once more, my guard was stronger now and I became more aware of his movements. The same trick would not work twice. So I waited one second longer than before to observe the movements of his bat before dodging again. 

“You refuse to fight offensively.” The Batter said. “Is this battle too difficult for you?”

His voice was not mocking me, he did not sound superior. He sounded quite polite and concerned about my well-being. I shook my head in response. “No, not at all.” I grinned. I ran towards him. He held out his bat to hit me like a baseball that was headed into his direction. I observed his stance. I was not sure what to make of it. I had observed him in battle, but only with spectres. Those had different rules and strategies. His posture was different from his usual one when fighting. A special attack? A competence move, perhaps?

I was in his reach and managed to violently hit his shoulder. He, in response hit the back of my knees with a skillful move, causing me to fall over and drop my weapon. I picked it up and got up quickly in order not to give him an opening. 

“Are you sure?” He asked once more. “It appears we are not evenly matched.”

“Are you bored with me?” I asked, looking at him from behind my mask with a stern expression. I hoped to be doing him a favor, not bothering him and be a burden.

“Of course not.” He put a hand to his cap and shoved it into place on his head. “I was only making an observation.”

“I'm just not used to this bat, I'm fine, though.”

He nodded and we resumed to our battle when I charged at him again. He was using his normal fighting stance that time, meaning a strike somewhere to the torso or arms. I was in his reach but instead of attacking I ducked, dodging his blow and then slammed my bat into his unguarded side. He gasped and tried to swing at me again as I was still very close to him, but I escaped to the side. He chased me, swinging every now and then while running, trying to hit me. I dodged the simple blows easily, which caused him to become somewhat irritated. The simply delivered blows became more frequent.

This was no good. It was no good at all. As long as he was chasing me like this I would not be able to take a break, turn around or do offensive battle. It was a pure stamina contest. And that was all thanks to that darned bat. 

I thought about taking it away from him but that seemed nearly impossible. The Batter's grip on his weapon was very tight. And my companion was not stupid, he was most likely aware of my wish to take his bat away from him in order to make this battle easier for me. I glanced behind me. Both of us were still running and he had not stopped swinging. This meant that if I tried to turn around and face him with any sort of plan it might result in physical punishment for me. But I had to give it a try.

I turned on my heel which surprised the one chasing me. I swung my bat and he held his ready to protect his body. I did not aim my blow at his body, though. Instead I removed his cap from his head, causing it to land a few feet behind him. This course of action surprised him even more, causing him to reach for his head to check for the presence of the cap and his guard to drop. I used this short moment to reach for his bat, pull it away from him and throw it off of the roof we were on. I threw mine right after it, knowing full well that it was not of much use to me and that he would have an easy time taking it from me and using it.

He looked at me. “Does this mean the battle simulation is over?” 

“I can still fight. What about you?”

“I am still capable of fight, as well.” He picks up his cap.

“Then there's no reason to stop.”

I saw a smile appear and vanish on his face as he put on the cap again. “Very well.” 

He ran into my direction again. He tried to punch me, but I managed to dodge it. I tried to punch him in return and he followed my example of dodging. We did this for a few minutes, punching, dodging and every once in a while either of us would take a blow but continue. I tried to do the cap trick again to catch him off guard but he was very aware of this strategy by then and did not let me get near his head. 

Apparently he liked my trick of confusing him because he launched what seemed to be another punch at me and before I knew it my mask was gone. I quickly covered my face with my sleeves. He should not, under any circumstances, see my face. “No fair!” I yelled with displeasure.

“If this is an invalid move then so was your distraction form earlier which led to the loss of my weapon.” I peeked out from behind my sleeves. He was not looking at me, he was examining my mask. He put it aside. I was lucky he did not throw it and unlucky because the next thing he did was tackle me and pin me down by my arms. He was looking straight at me. I turned my head away, hoping that he would not look at it.

“I believe I am the victor.” He said in a firm voice filled with pride. 

“Yes, you are, now give me back my mask.” I demanded rudely and loudly. 

“Why is that mask of such importance to you?” I could feel his gaze on me and a moment later his hand was removing some hair that was covering my face from his view. He put his hand on my face to turn it and make me face him. I looked away in shame. “I see.” He simply said. “You feel ashamed because of the appearance of your face?” He questioned as he examined my face more closely. 

I closed my eyes. I was ashamed. Very ashamed, even. I sighed. “Yes, a little. And I'm very uncomfortable without my mask.”

He nodded, understanding my feelings. He reached out and took it before sliding it back onto my head. “I was wondering whether it was only a decorative mask or whether it was serving a greater purpose.”

“Well, now you know.” I was stiff underneath him and filled with regret. If only I had not insisted on battling with him then this would not have happened. Usually being underneath the Batter like this, this close to him would make my inside all mushy and warm, now I only felt the deepest of regret and pain. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to find a corner to sit in and feel bad and maybe feel sorry for myself. I wanted Sugar. I wanted her to hug me and tell me that it was alright, that it did not matter. But nothing of that happened. I was with him, the Batter. He would not understand my shame, would not comfort me, he would not even leave me alone.

“Why is your appearance troubling you like this?” He asked, curiosity and confusion in his voice.

“Do you use those eyes of yours or not? You saw what I look like. How could I not be ashamed of this?” My voice was loud and angry. I did not know why he had to ask, to me the reason for my insecurities was obvious and to anyone else it would have been, too, but not to him. He had to be emotionless, he had to not care. And he had to remain on his spot, being comfortable in my comfort zone. 

“I have seen your face. I have examined it. There was nothing about it that requires you to feel shame.” He leaned closer to me. His words were surprising me. “If you feel shame you allow one detail of your being to affect your way of thinking. The flaw is not your appearance, the flaw is that you allow it to disturb your concentration and composure. You would maybe have been victorious if that was not the case.”

That was new. Usually when I was being sad or moping because of my face Sugar would just tell me that I was lying to myself and that I was actually handsome. Of course one starts doubting those words after hearing them over and over again. “I am hideous, though, you agree?” 

The Batter leaned back, he got off of me and sat beside me instead. “No.” He sighed. My companion looked into the distance absentmindedly. “Beauty has nothing to do with appearance. It is the quality of the person that is behind the appearance, the character and soul that reside in the physical form. I do not know everything about you, it is likely that I never will, but you are in no way hideous. Like all entities you have flaws, you are imperfect. But you balance those flaws with good qualities. Your intentions are pure. That is beauty, not the shape or appearance of a face.”

My cheeks were heating up. Never have I ever thought the Batter would say something like that. To anyone. In any situation. “I didn't think you'd say that.”

“I used to believe the same. I felt no need or purpose to bother with problems that were not my own. But it is different now. It is strange and different, but alright.” He looked at me. “Maybe I found a reason to care. The same reason I do not feel obligated to purify right now.”

“So, you think I'm beautiful, huh.” I smiled and snickered.

“Is there a problem with that?” 

“Not at all. On the contrary, even. I'm glad that you think that, because I didn't think you would. No matter how one defines beauty. Also, I thought you would be disturbed or disgusted by my face and take a safety distance as well as your leave.” I shrugged.

“Be more confident, Zacharie. This thinking will ruin you and cause unpleasant incidents.”

I nodded in response, being grateful for the unexpected advice. “Thank you, Batter.”

“It is not a problem. I only spoke my mind.”

“Maybe, but it helped me feel better, so I'm grateful for that.” I sat up. I leaned into him, encouraging him to wrap his arms around me which he then proceeded to do. The embrace was tight and affectionate and I felt protected and safe within it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please comment!


	11. Fragment 2, Part 5: Go Cold Fish II

“This is great!”

“I'm glad you like it.”

“It's so yummy!”

“Yes, it's very flavorful, isn't it?”

“How did you know where I was?”

Sugar was sitting on a small brick wall. She was busy stuffing her mouth with the piece of pie I had brought her. She seemed grateful for every bite and eager to have more. She licked the fork I had brought along ever so often, making sure it was spotless. The filling of the pie had found a new home on her cheeks, the corners of her mouth and some on her clothes and revealed body. 

I was sitting beside her. “You left a trail of destruction behind you.”

“Aw, come on, Zacharie, you know you're lying. I didn't destroy that much.” She shoved more of the fruity pastry into her mouth.

“I found three horrified Elsen within an hour that all became burnt when I spoke to them. They said you took their sugar.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. 

“So what if I did?” She spoke while eating, spitting saliva drenched crumbs onto my mask. “I needed some! I didn't know you were going to find me and bring me this yummy food.” She shoved the final piece of her slice into her mouth before beginning to lick the plate clean. 

I began wiping the crumbs away with the back of my hand. “I thought you said that the Elsen liked you. You even said that they considered you to be their friend.”

“When I give them their sugar they do and when I don't give them sugar they don't. Do you think I'm your friend?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“But you don't want sugar.”

“No.”

“See? Elsen are not very good friends.” She cleaned the plate with her tongue. “Got any more?”

I cut another slice from the pie and carefully put it onto the plate she was holding out as she was expecting the pastry. “That's no reason to do that. I told you about the Batter. He's going to find you in the blink of an eye if you keep leaving behind a trail like that. You can't expect me to clean up your messes all the time.”

“I don't!” She snapped. “I never asked you to! You just did it.” She thrust her fork into the new slice on her plate. “Besides, if he wants to fight me, he can be my guest.” Table manners were a term foreign to the vocabulary of Sugar. She chewed with her mouth wide open, picked her teeth with her fingernails every now and then and smeared her food all over the place. 

“Sugar.” I sighed. “I told you why I don't want that to happen. Can't you understand and respect that?”I felt a bit of disappointment that someone who claimed to be my best friend, and actually deserved that title, was apparently not interested in what I had to say to her. That or she was pretending to have close to no attention span although not having any reason to do so.

She shoved a piece into her mouth, past her painted lips. “Of course I can, but I don't want to stop having fun just because it means luring in your boyfriend. If we meet, we meet. I won't let him kill me. I would die for you, maybe, not for that crush of yours.”

“I don't want you to die. I don't want him to die, either. I don't even know whether either of you can die right now. Look, all I want is for you to be just a little more careful. Please?” I put my hands together and pleaded.

“Fine, but you owe me.” She smirked, her teeth dirty with pie remains.

I let my hands rest in my lap. “I just brought you an entire pie. I stole it for you.”

“Is this bribe pie?” She giggled and poked it. “I didn't know that! If it's bribe pie I won't have it.” She gave me the plate. 

I only looked at her and waited.

She took the plate back after half a minute. “Stop being so convincing.” She kept eating.

“So you'll be more careful from now on?”

“Yes, fine. For you.”

I smiled. “Good. Thanks.”

“How is your boyfriend, anyway? Still a cold fish?” She made another chiming giggle before busying her mouth with more pie.

I shrugged. “Somewhat, yes. But he changed. He cares now, I think. He even comforted me the other day and he's showing emotion now. Not much, but a little. I think that's a huge accomplishment.”

Sugar nodded. “Maybe it is. Or maybe it's not and you should find someone else with actual emotions and stuff.”

I leaned back. “And who, pray tell, might that be?”

“I don't know! There's that Queen.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Where are you getting those ideas?”

She swallowed. “My head. They just pop in and out.”

“Anyway.” I smiled. Silly Sugar. “Things seem to be going way better than the last time we talked. And that's a good thing. There's still plenty of room for improvement but for now I think I need to be happy with what I have. Any day now I might forget who I am. I have to enjoy this.”

Sugar tapped her cheek with her fork in wonder, smearing more pie onto her face. “You and Pablo are losing your memories. I wonder why I'm not.”

“I think you weren't a key element to the game. Pablo and I, I'm not sure but I think, both had important roles in relation to the Player. Roles that gave us access to knowledge and power in the game.”

“I'm powerful!” She interrupted.

“But in a different way.”

“What about your lover boy. He's important to this whole game thing, isn't he?”

“Okay, first of all don't call the Batter that, it's just not a good thing to call him. Second of all, he is important but he has nothing that he needs to forget. He cannot advance because he doesn't know the codes or riddles. He is dependent on his puppeteer. That's his whole deal. The whole reason why everything is such a problem for him. I told you all this a few minutes ago. Have you been listening to me?”

“Every word! But then there was the pie and it is really delicious and I was a bit distracted.” She smiled at her pie and stroked its top with her fork. “There, there. Maman Sucre loves you.” She turned back to me. “But I listened to the important stuff.”

I did not bother asking what she meant by 'important stuff' I either knew or would not like the answer. “Alright then.” I watched her eat pie. “So is there anything you want to do?”

“I don't know. You found me, I thought you wanted to do something.” She shrugged.

“Well, I found you to tell you everything I told you so what I wanted to do has been done. I thought more along the lines of a game that you want to play or something you want to talk about. Where have you been after our last talk. I expected to bump into you sooner.” 

Sugar finished her slice. “I've been around. Didn't really do much more than I did locked in that basement. I enjoyed my freedom, though and I'm going to continue enjoying it.” She grinned. “I'm glad you let me out.” She licked the plate again.

I nodded. “I see.” I handed her a tissue when she was decidedly done eating pie and she used it to wipe the remains off of her body and clothing.

We were sitting next to each other for a while in silence. I was thinking my share of thoughts, some about her and she was probably thinking about silly and strange things. Or maybe she was deciding where she would go next and what she would do wherever she decided to go. I looked around. I wondered whether I should say something, keep the conversation going, but she did not seem interested to talk or listen much more. She was maybe lost in her own little world again.

So instead of speaking I looked around. I observed a few nearby Elsen that trembled when seeing Sugar and hurried away into the opposite direction. I looked at the road that I had walked on. It had led me to the sweet girl next to me. What was that? I squinted. Something, or rather someone was walking on the road in the distance. The person was approaching us. I quickly recognized him. “Crap.” I muttered. It was the Batter.

“Sugar, maybe you should go.” I spoke up and began to shove her, trying to get her to jump off of the wall. I observed my savior as he came closer. He was quick.

“What, why? Don't you want to hang out more?”

“I do, but you really have to go now.”

She frowned at me. “I don't want to go, you can't decide what I have to do, Zacharie. You're my friend, not my guardian or boss. Tell me why.” 

Closer and closer.

“Because the Batter is coming this way, he'll be here any minute and if you don't hurry away I don't know what will happen!”

“Oh, but I want to meet him.” She smirked.

“I thought you said you were going to avoid him for me. He will try to kill you for upsetting all those Elsen.” I glared at her.

“I said I was going to be careful. How is he to know that I did the damage unless you tell him?” She looked at me directly, I understood at instant what she wanted me to do.

“Sugar, I can't lie to him. He's finally begun opening up to me, I won't betray his trust. Please, go. Just go I don't want anyone to get hurt. Neither you nor him nor anyone else.”

“Tell him that I'm a good person, then. That's not a lie. Is it?” Her gaze was piercing me.

“Of course not. That's the truth, but you don't know him. Being a good person is not enough for him, if he decides that you're impure then he will fight you, no matter what.” I was panicking.

“Too late.” She said with a irritating sweet voice. I turned back around. 

The Batter was standing there, looking at me and then at Sugar. He examined her. 

“Hello!” She waved and greeted him. “I am Sugar, who are you?” She grinned and giggled. I just stared at the Batter in silence.

“I am the Batter. I have come to purify the cause of the recent destruction.”

Sugar laughed. “That's funny, you're funny!” This caused the Batter to raise an eyebrow at my friend. “Zacharie, your friend is funny.” She said, tapping my arm playfully.

The Batter turned his attention to me. “This girl is an acquaintance of yours?”

“Oh, I am more than some stupid acquaintance, Batter! I'm Zacharie's bestest of best friends.” She chuckled and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a very tight hug. I felt extremely uncomfortable.

The Batter kept looking at me, he raised an eyebrow and his gaze was filled with burning curiosity. 

“Yeah, she is my friend.” I admitted, avoiding his gaze, not daring to look at him.

“Best friend!” Sugar immediately corrected me.

“Best friend.” I agreed. I could not deny the shame in my voice. I did not know for sure where it was coming from. I was not ashamed of Sugar. She was wonderful and sweet and I appreciated my friendship with her. I was just incredibly uncomfortable and concerned about what was going to happen next.

“Are you aware of the damage and the destruction that has been done, presumably by this person?” He asked me.

I hesitated. I looked further away. “Yes.” I felt like I was being scolded.

Sugar let go off me and crossed her arms in front of her revealed chest. “I'm here, you know. Don't talk about me like I'm not here, stupid. Zacharie, you were right he really is a jerk.”

“I never said that!” I snapped at her. I eyed the Batter carefully, once again grateful that my mask was concealing my face. He did not seem to enjoy what he was hearing. Not at all. I felt murderous intent coming from his direction. Not necessarily for me, but perhaps for my talkative friend.

“A jerk, emotionally cold, blah blah.” She shrugged. “It's all the same.”

“Sugar.” I hissed. My companion was watching us closely. “What the hell are you doing? Don't you remember anything we discussed?”

She intended to answer, but the Batter cut her off. “And what were the both of you discussing, Zacharie?”

“Well, we were just-” Sugar interrupted me before I could reveal the content of our talks. 

She hopped off of the wall and glared at my companion deeply while stomping toward him. “What do you care, Batter? It's none of your business.”

He took a generous step away from her, avoiding her. “I believe it is. Zacharie is well aware of my destiny to purify everything impure. If he was speaking to someone as impure as you, there had to be a decent reason.”

I did not know whether to be happy or extremely sad. He believed in me. On one hand he believed in my actions, causes and reasons and that was more than just a good thing. On the other hand I had completely betrayed his faith in me and probably ruined it forever.

“Impure? I'm not impure!” She grinned. “Why don't we settle this the best way possible, purifier?” 

I jumped off the wall immediately, grabbed Sugar's arm and pulled her away before standing in front of her, facing her. “What the hell do you think you are doing? I told you I don't want you to do anything stupid.” I glared at her and I knew that she could feel it. 

“Tell that to your boyfriend. He insulted me and I won't just take that from some guy that doesn't even know me.” She nearly spat on me. I did not want to admit it, but I could understand her. Her behavior was irrational and she was overdoing it, but I understood why she was upset.

I turned to the Batter. “Batter, you have to understand that she's not as bad as you think.”

“She's impure.” He swung his bat in the air. He took a fighting stance.

“She's a good person at heart.” I tried to convince him and tried to change his intent to kill her. I tried to defend her with words when Sugar herself was apparently not even thinking about doing anything other than fighting him to the death. 

“She caused destruction and her impurity might spread.” He glared at me. “You know what that means. Move.”

“Yes, Zacharie, move.” She agreed.

I shook my head. I was holding onto Sugar with one arm so she would not move away from behind me. I had to prevent this battle. I had to make sure both of them would be alright. It was my duty as a friend and companion. It was my duty as who I was. I could not risk to lose either of them to the other. Especially not without a worthy cause. “Impurity is not some disease that can spread.”

“You are correct. Disease can be cured. Impurity cannot. It can simply be eradicated with death.” He stepped closer. “I ask you again: Move aside. I wish for you to be fine.”

“I won't let you fight. I care about both of you.” 

Sugar pulled herself out of my grasp. “Then let me settle my differences with him the way I want to.” Her voice bit me. She was mad and impatient. 

“No. No, I won't.”

The Batter spoke up again. “Zacharie, you are being immature. Do not attempt to prevent this. You are not a hero, you are a merchant.”

That stung, a merchant could try to do good, too. “Yes, I am a merchant. And you are the hero. And you're a very irrational one. Why do you want to murder her? You know just as well as me that you cannot continue your quest for purity. You're stuck. But you have to be stupid and incapable of accepting it. There's no point in killing Sugar. There's no point in purifying. You know that. So stop being such an arrogant moron and spend your time doing some actual good.”

Once the last of my words was spoken and its sound was lost in between soft breezes silence replaced my voice. The Batter was looking at me, his facial expression showing no emotion whatsoever. His gaze was painful. The silence was a curse. I wanted him to speak up. I wanted him to say something. I wanted Sugar to say something. I wanted the silence to disappear. I wanted to take back every single word I had spoken and I wanted to vanish into thin air that very moment. He lost his fighting stance. His muscles relaxed, but he did not. Tension was in the air. He was tense. On the inside he was very likely shocked, surprised and maybe upset with me. Not only maybe. He was upset with me, for sure. I looked at him. Looked him up and down, waiting for something, anything to happen, begging internally for him to do something. Without another word, he turned and left. 

“Wait!” I yelled out and attempted to run after him, but a tight grip on my arm was preventing me from doing so. “Sugar, let me go!”

“No, Zacharie. You have to stay right now.”

“He's leaving, I think I might have seriously hurt his feelings. I have to go after him.” I tried to struggle to get away from her.

“No, give him a few minutes at least.”

“Why would I?” I attempted to force her hand away from me.

“Because you were right.” 

I stopped struggling. I looked at her in surprise. “What?”

She let go once she seemed sure that I was not going to take off. “You were right, duh.” She went and leaned against the wall. “Everything you said was absolutely right. And just like you said, he knows that what you were saying was true.”

I watched the Batter in the distance. I observed as he left. Left me. “How can you be so sure? You don't even know him. You don't know my relationship with him. You have no idea what he will do, Sugar, don't lie to me.”

“Give me a little more credit than that, Zacharie. You know that I wouldn't lie to you. I know what he's going to do because you told me about him. And you also told me about your relationship with him. I was listening, stupid. He agrees with you in every regard. And I think I know you well enough to know that I need to tell you not to go after him, right away.” 

“Speaking about agreeing on things, I thought we had agreed on not trying to fight the person I fell in love with, didn't we, Sugar?” I glared again. “And you said I called him a jerk, what was that all about?”

“This is not about us, this is about him. And what the hell did you expect me to do? Accept him calling me impure and accept him just beating me into a pulp? What should I have done in your opinion, Zacharie? Stop being such a coward.” She looked away. “I guess I overdid it with the jerk thing, I just wanted to have something decent to say back at him. He was being so rude.”

“I'm not a coward.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I simply think physical fighting should only be resorted to if everything else failed and should be the last of options that someone would ever take. Not everyone embraces misery, death and bloodshed, you know.”

She giggled. “I know.” She smiled. “Anyway. Don't worry. If what you told me is right both of you will be fine. He'll think about what you said and hopefully accept it. Maybe he'll fight you a bit about it but eventually it will be okay. And that will only be a verbal fight, my little coward.”

“I'm not a coward.” I repeated. Sugar's words were reassuring, but not convincing. I had not told her every detail about the Batter and she did not know him well enough to make assumptions. She was obviously only trying to comfort me, because I was feeling bad. “But thanks, Sugar. So what should I do, in your opinion?” 

“In my opinion?” She rubbed her chin and a smirk grew from her lips. “In my opinion you should calm down, give him time and give me another piece of pie. You might wanna talk to him later about this stuff.”

I nodded. The Batter was probably not in the mood to talk to me, either way. She was right about that. So I should wait but definitely speak to him about this problem later on. It was important to talk about it at some point. I served her another piece of pie. “I can live with that.”

We spent more time together. We did not talk about the Batter anymore after Sugar had decided to make me think about other things and people that would not cause me to worry immediately. She managed to do so for most of the time. She talked to me about what she did after I freed her from the basement. She had said that she had not done much before and it had been true. What she was telling me was nothing of importance. It was not amazing or incredibly interesting, but it was good enough to keep my attention away from the image of the Batter swirling around in my head. 

Then she changed the topic and talked about what she wanted to do. For a girl with low standards she dreamed big. She had huge plans that, although I would never say it out loud, I did not believe she was able to realize. She had plans of such size that they would be borderline impossible even with the world still normal and moving correctly. Considering the current situation, her ideas seemed ludicrous. I admired how hopeful she was, though and how she seemed to be able to think positively despite everything.

After a while we exchanged goodbyes and I took my backpack and left, hoping to see her again soon. She made me promise not to forget her once I got married to the Batter and had sixteen babies with him. I did not bother to explain to her all the ways in which what she said was wrong. Instead I simply chuckled and let her be. 

I was walking with content at first, but the closer I got to reaching what I could call home the more of that content and happy feeling vanished and left me exposed to fear and concern.

I felt uneasiness creeping up on me.   
What if the Batter was there? What if he was not? Which was worse? What would I say and do? How would I handle a fight? How would I handle his possible insults? Would he hate me? These and many more questions were piercing my mind like arrows, some of them slipping in and then slipping right through me, others getting stuck and lasting and repeating their questioning message to me over and over again, causing me pain. I forgot everything Sugar had said to comfort my helpless soul.

I had hurt him. I told myself this repeatedly. I had hurt him. I had hurt the person I love. I did not mean to but I had hurt him. Hurt, hurt, hurt him. Caused him pain, pain, pain. Sugar was not impure, I was impure. But who cared since I was just a useless merchant? I cared because I had hurt him. Hurt him, the purifier, the hero, my savior. Hurt the person that had saved me not only from being hurt but from losing it, from losing myself. I took care and salvation and caused hurt and pain. 

I was not fit to be with him, I was not fit to support him, I was not fit to love him. 

Warm drops were in my eyes.

I did so much, too much. I did so much wrong. Nothing was right. Nothing had ever been right. I could not do right things. I was a merchant. I was the embodiment of greed. I was selfish. I caused pain.

They rolled down my cheeks.

I was with him, he had a burden. I touched him, he felt unwell. I spoke to him, he was hurt.

They lingered on the underside of my chin.

It was no use. I was no use. I had tried and failed. There was never meant to be a relationship. I was not good enough for one. I was not good enough for him. 

They dropped.

I was standing in front of the door. He was behind it, I was sure. I had to keep the door closed, had to stay away from him, had to bring that wall in between us. It was no good. I was no good. I had broken everything I had tried to build. It was better this way. The door had to be shut. The relationship had to be locked away. This was my way of apologizing. I would make everything better by doing this. He would be fine. This way he would be fine. He would be alright. Maybe I could be alright.

Alone and alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments! I'd be happy to gain some for this chapter, too~


	12. Fragment 2, Part 6: Warmth

The door opened.

I had not touched it and yet it opened. I was looking at the person who had opened it for me. He was standing on front of me. Tall, athletic and dressed in white. He was looking down at me. I stared up at him. Had he known I was there or was he planning on going out? My question was answered when he stepped aside, giving me space to walk through the doorway and enter the building. This was my last chance to turn and leave. My last chance to be alone and avoid the struggle of a fight. The struggle of the talk about what I had said to him. 

I walked inside. 

He closed the door behind me and turned. 

I was standing by the counter, not facing him. “You knew I was there.” I said, avoiding the elephant in the room that was the problem we had to talk about. My voice was dull and empty while the deafening sound of regret was filling my ears.

“I heard footsteps and heard them cease in front of the door but no one ever came inside and there were no further footsteps. I assumed it was you.” He had taken off his hat and put away his bat and I heard him sit down. When I glanced over my shoulder I saw his items beside him.

“I can leave again.” I suggested, not wanting to pressure him into talking to me, especially not if he was already in a bad mood thanks to me.

“You can.” He agreed and turned his head to the side. Apparently he had enough emotion and common sense to realize that this was an awkward and delicate situation for both of us. “Or you can stay.”

I wondered whether he was trying to say that he wanted me to remain there. “If you want me to leave, I'll go.” I offered.

“If you want to stay, you can.” He answered.

I turned around, he was still not looking at me. I tossed my backpack aside and sat down, as well, leaning against the counter. “Then I will. Unless you want me to leave.” I had to be completely sure.  
“I do not wish for you to leave.” He admitted. “I believe it would be a bad choice. Seeing as we should discuss some things.” He glanced at me, but did not turn towards me. He looked away again. “Unless, of course, you are not in favor of talking to me.”

“I'm in favor of it. But only if you will look at me while we talk.”

He turned to me, facing me. I only then noticed that his hair was a bit messy. Very unusual for the neat and tidy Batter. It looked like he had run his hands through it a million times. “A reasonable condition. And I wish for you to remove your mask.”

I looked down. “Why do you want me to do that?” He knew how uncomfortable I was.

“Because I desire to see you face. I believe that I should observe your emotions, should try to read you and understand you. The mask is an obstacle. And on a side note, I appreciate your face.” He was nailing me to the counter with his gaze. 

I sighed and slowly removed the mask from my face. I looked at him. He seemed grateful to me for doing this for him. “Anything else?” I asked. The atmosphere was still awkward and heavy. The words I had spoken earlier were bricks in a wall between my companion and me.

“No.” He stated. 

“Alright.”

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. We just sat on the floor, across from one another, glanced at each other every now and then. We were there together and we knew it but both of us were stuck in our individual spaces, locked up in tiny soundproof bubbles of hesitation so that neither of us would dare raising their voice to start the overdue and necessary conversation. I thought about something I could say, but nothing came to my mind. I considered him wanting to be the one to talk first. But he would have spoken up already in that case. I was up to me. 

“I'm sorry.” I broke the silence. He looked up. I knew I had his full attention. “I'm sorry for what I said to you.”

“You meant every word.” He butted in, it felt like he slapped my face harshly.

I could not deny that what he said was true. “I was being too harsh. I offended you and even if I meant what I said I could have worded it more nicely or just kept my mouth shut. Just because you think or believe something doesn't mean that it has to be said. Especially not if it's causing pain.”

“It had to be said.” 

I stared at him in disbelief. So he believed in my words from earlier, he believed what I told him. “Not the way I said it and maybe not by me.” My knees were pushed against my chest as I was sitting.

“There was no one else to speak.”

I sighed once more. “Then maybe no one should have said it, after all. You have your own life and your own choices and I should have respected them. I keep going on about trying to make you feel real emotions and then I do something as insensitive as that. I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know. You had no impure intentions. I am not holding a grudge against you.”

“And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about Sugar. But I care about her and I can't let you hurt her in any way. She's my friend. I have known her for a long time and I will try to protect her from anyone.”

The Batter hesitated before answering. He looked at me and then away and then at me again. “Well.” He started. “I cannot understand how you were able to befriend such a person without feeling bad or being bothered by her omnipresent impurity. I felt utter disgust in her presence.”

I did not enjoy hearing that. Not only because he was partially scolding me, but also because no one should talk about Sugar like a spot of dirt. “I said she is my friend. You could show a little more respect to my friends than that. Or at least not treat them like worthless garbage or speak of them like that.”

“She's impure, Zacharie.”

“She is still my friend and a good person. She makes mistakes and has her flaws, but no one is perfect. I don't even know how you measure impurity other than by purely subjective instincts.” I glared a little at him.

“She burnt several Elsen. She was not doing any good. If she was a good and pure person, her deeds would be good, too. I believe that you should know that.”

“Oh, so your deeds have been all that great? You intimidated Elsen, too, you turned them burnt and then beat them to death.” I spat the words out like dirt in my mouth. “How is that any better?”

“I only hurt them once they were no longer Elsen. Burnts and phantoms are dangerous and highly impure. I had to remove them or they would have caused damage, infected others and done much more.” He explained, he was full of himself and his arrogance annoyed me. He beat them to death after turning them into something awful. That is how I saw it.

“By that logic you don't have to hurt Sugar.”

“She caused destruction. She is impure of the highest degree.”

“But she is still a person. She still has personality, feelings and thoughts and she doesn't have something that can be spread like a disease or something.” I tried to sound as convincing as possible, swallowing my anger. 

“She is dangerous.” The Batter said, he was not giving up easily.

“Another reason for you to simply stay away from her and not fight her.”

“I believe that my holy bat would be capable of purifying her.” The Batter snapped.

“So what I said earlier was not true, after all? That purifying is pointless and makes no sense and that you should no longer do it? I thought you said that that had to be said.”

“It did. But that does not force me to live by that statement. I could simply carry on the way I used to.” He cleared his throat. “However, I would not have acknowledged your words if they had not left their effect on me. I despise myself for betraying my own beliefs and priorities, but you were right about everything. And I will try to change my style of life. Or at least I shall attempt doing good.”

I smiled a bit. “So you'll stay away from Sugar and not fight her?”

The Batter sighed. “I shall attempt to do so. But if she wishes to battle I will not hold back, she will be purified.”  
I knew that that was the best I would get from the Batter. He was not a very peaceful being. “So you will forgive me? For everything I said?” Hope filled me. This talk was going much better than I had expected it to. Could it be that this was all I had to do? A simple apology and we would be done with it.

“You deserve forgiveness, but I do not deserve an apology. I left you without an answer, without a word. It was disrespectful and rude. Even worse than that, I reduced you to your role as a merchant, although I know you are more than that.”

“It's okay.” I said. I did not understand what he was doing. There was no need for him to apologize to me or say anything like that. I was the one who had made a mistake. He had forgiven me, we were done.

“No. No it is not alright, Zacharie. I appreciate you. You are not only a merchant, you are more and I ignored this. I disregarded your character, your beliefs, your entire being. Everything except for your occupation.” Guilt was in his eyes. “And I am truly sorry.” 

“It's okay, really. You don't have to apologize. I know you didn't mean it like that.” I shrugged.

“But I did.” He looked down. “I meant it like that. I meant it to the fullest. I meant that you were a merchant and not more than that. And that is terrible. I do not want to see you as only a merchant. I usually see so much more in you. But that moment all I saw was a nuisance, some bothersome obstacle in the form of a merchant who had no right to speak to me like that.”

I just looked at him and listened. I did not know what to say in return.

“You were absolutely correct earlier. There is no hope for me, no hope for my quest. And still I repeat my routine. I cannot stop. I cannot stop although it is a waste of time. It is useless, I will not achieve anything, anymore. If I could I would change my being. I would change my wishes in favor of yours. I would change my priorities.” 

“So why don't you?” I asked, a tad confused.

“Because it is difficult. I achieved things, achieved purity with guidance from someone who might be no more.” 

“But your thinking is good. It has changed. You can do better and find something else to believe in.” I smiled, trying to reassure him.

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds. “What am I to do?”

“What do you mean?” I questioned curiously.

“If I do not purify, what is it that I do? I have lost my purpose. I have no reason to continue existing.”

I shrugged. “So have I, but you don't see me giving up on life.” I decided to keep to myself that I almost gave up on us and myself.

“Why, Zacharie?” He looked at me firmly, but not angrily. “What is your motivation? How can you go on?”

I smiled a bit. “Because I have found something new. Something beside selling merchandise. I found it before the puppeteer even left. Being just the merchant-” I raised my hands to make quotation marks into the air with my fingers around the word 'just'. “- I began to live with a carpe diem attitude at some point. Living in the moment. Making every day worth being there. I'm losing my memory, Batter. Slowly, but steadily. It might be over for me any day and I will have forgotten everything. And maybe you and I and everyone else, maybe we are all stuck like this for eternity. So we might as well spend it having a good time, right?”

“But our terrible fate does not cause me to wish to celebrate and be happy.”

“Your fate won't make you do that, no. Your attitude and motivation have to come from yourself. You have to believe that that is the right way to live and feel good about that lifestyle and choice. That's how it works.” I tilted my head. “At least that's how it worked for me. You're different. It might be more difficult for you.”

He leaned back, resting his head against the wall. He closed his eyes. “Perhaps it will be for the best for me to continue the way I have lived so far. I feel like the recent happenings were not supposed to occur, like something is wrong anyway. And if the puppeteer returns, I will be ready.”

“No.” I shook my head, being once again completely honest. He had already agreed with me that what he was doing was pointless so I was no longer afraid of speaking my mind. I spoke loudly and with a firm and serious tone so that he would be aware of the importance of the decisions he had to make. “You can't think like that anymore. You can't wait for the puppeteer to come along and solve all of your problems. All you need is a new and different motivation. Maybe some kind of belief? I read that a long time ago people would dedicate their lives to serving a higher entity simply because they believed said entity to be their lord,who eventually judged over their souls.”

“I shall not dedicate my life to an entity I can only believe in, but will not know for sure that it exists.”

“I didn't expect you to. I was only giving an example for what one belief can cause.” 

“What do you believe in?” He looked at me again. 

“I believe in people, myself and the ability to take control over one's own life.” I smiled warmly at my beloved companion. “Also, and please don't think that I'm a corny person, most recently I have grown to believe in emotions and relationships and life with someone else.” I felt my cheeks heating up a little.

The Batter smiled ever so slightly. “Those are great beliefs.” He decided. 

“I suppose so, yes. But in the end what you do with your life, what choices you make -” I hesitated before continuing. I sighed quietly. “They are all yours. You have to make them. Not me, not the puppeteer that left you. Only you choose the path you walk.” I wanted to ask him a question. A question that had slowly been expanding in my head, growing and growing like a balloon filling with air. And this balloon was big enough to pop. “Do you believe in our relationship?”

“In our relationship?”

“Yes.” I stared at him. “Do you believe that it is a good relationship, that we can keep it, improve it, live with it? Do you believe in me?”

My companion took time to answer my question. He was leaning back with his eyes closed again, forcing me to wait and cook in anxiety. When he looked at me again, his eyelids snapping open, I was about ready to scream from sheer tension. “I do.” He answered shortly and simply. His words were soft and tender, though as if he was accepting to marry me. That thought sent more blood rushing into my already tinted cheeks. 

“You believe in it?” I felt the need to be sure that I understood him correctly before celebrating his answer in my head.

“Yes. I believe that there is a lot of room for us to improve and that there is the possibility that we will use that room. And I believe in you as my faithful and loyal companion and friend not only in the ways of friendship, but also the ways of romance. I have not a single doubt on my mind about being with you. You have managed to make all the doubts disappear.”

His words were music to my ears.

I crawled over to him on all fours, not caring about the close up he would get of my face. I went over to him and I sat in front of him and reached out to hug him. He accepted the hug and rubbed my back tenderly and with care and comfort and I smiled. I was happy. Nothing could take this away from me. Nothing and no one. 

I leaned back, my hands still on his body. I looked at him. I examined his face. The curves of his smooth lips, the hills of his high cheekbones, the edges of his straight nose and the depth of his captivating eyes. They had changed as he had changed and reflected the emotions he had learned to feel. They held care and fondness for me. I was close enough to his face to feel his breath on my skin. We looked at each other, examining each other's gazes and I knew that we were thinking with one mind and feeling with one soul. And everything he did and everything I did was amazing for no deeper reason than it being done.

I did not kiss and I was not kissed, it was a very mutual, very warm gesture that we had both started. I tilted my head a little and eased into the kiss. My eyelids slid closed over my eyes. I brushed the side of his nose with the side of mine every once in a while. His lips were hot and moist against mine and I felt his grip tightening on me so I did the same to him in return. He pulled me closer.

We remained like this for a short while before I pulled away and looked at him in surprise. I had not expected him to be able to be gentle like that, not that I was complaining. 

“Is something wrong?” He looked at me with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. His cheeks were slightly flushed, indicating that he had enjoyed it just as much as I had.

“No.” I smiled and leaned into him, leaning my forehead against his. “Nothing is wrong, at all. Just keep doing things like that, please.”

I felt his hands on my cheeks. For the first time they felt warm. “You mean things like this?” Before I could ask what he meant I felt his lips on mine once more. He was kissing me again. But it was different. He was holding my head and crushing into me. He was kissing me with more vigor and desire. With passion and lust. He caused the floor I was sitting on to feel cold to me and his touch to be so hot, hot, hot. I stopped mentally analyzing the situation and gave in to simply kissing back. By that time he was softly biting my lower lip.

He licked, bit and sucked and was dominating the kiss. I decided to let him do so. Getting in the way of the Batter, no matter where and when, was no wise idea. 

So I did not object, either, when his tongue intruded the territory that was my mouth and explored and experienced it. He was doing this surprisingly shyly at first, but then became brave and forward and left no bit of flesh and tongue untouched. He pulled away from the kiss and I almost cried as he abandoned my face. 

“Things like this?” He repeated his question.

I was panting a little. “Yeah. Yeah, things like that will suffice.” I grinned and I must have looked like a tool, but I was too busy wanting more to care.

I felt his grip on my shoulders then and my grin widened. I had enough sense left within me not to pucker up like a desperate fool, but instead just take joy in the little images that popped up in my head, telling me stories of what he was going to do with my mouth. Those images were lies.

Against my expectations he did not pull me close to him, but instead pushed me down. My upper back hit the floor with a thudding noise. I made sure to prevent my head from having the same fate as my back. He cared and I knew it, but I had the feeling that he was slowly turning into an animal, that was filled with desire and lust and I had become his prey without knowing it. He was letting instincts and probably inner demons guide his actions and I was the target. Once again, I was not complaining.

With his hands still pushing my shoulders he forced me to lie still as he crushed into me again, kissing and sucking and it felt so good that I believed to wake up any second and be alone in the room. I felt his hands leave my shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he was kneeling over me. I squeaked into the kiss in surprise when I felt his long fingers caressing my abdomen, nothing between skin and skin. 

He pulled away.

“Zacharie.” He muttered. Again and again. He kissed my jawline, he kissed the space behind my ear and then my neck. Soft short kisses, burning and sizzling on my hot skin. 

“Batter.” I whispered in return and I panted and make little joyful moans when he kissed and played with me. 

It was no secret to me that this was unlikely to be his first time doing this. I knew about his family but I could not muster any regret or guilt. It felt right, it felt good. I wanted it and more, so much more. I had been lonely. A lonely, traveling merchant, desperate for attention, for care, for love, for lust. 

“I love you.”

It were three words. Three little words that tore me out of my thoughts. Three words that made time stop and made me stare up. He was looking at me. His hands on the ground on either side of my head. He was staring. I thought he was going to cry. Everything felt numb, my mind exploded into fireworks.

I could barely bring out the four words that should seal my bond with him. “I love you, too.”

And he smiled. Not slightly, not sarcastically. He smiled happily. Fully. And he kissed me and it was pure. And he touched me and it was pure. Pure, raw emotion. What I had longed for and what he had newly discovered. 

And then unspeakable things happened. Intimate secrets that will be between him and me forever.

Much, much later, we were lying on my sleeping mat, cuddled together. Clothes were scattered all over the floor around us and the atmosphere was filled with content and closeness. Intimacy. I was his little spoon. I could feel his even breathing on the back my neck as he slept, his arm loosely over me, warm and protective. I tried to stop smiling, but I could not. My eyes were closed as I was expecting slumber to take me. I wished for this moment to last. This moment, where time was not running, where concerns did not exist and where warmth was present, I wanted to live in it forever.

I snuggled closer to him and thought. I had not thought anything like this would happen. Ever. But suddenly everything happened. Everything and more. It was a rush, a haze and neither of us had seen it coming.

I wondered what I was to him now. What I meant to him now. I knew so much more than before and so did he. I was wiser.

Not long ago I had known that if I were to get in his way I would be slaughtered. I had known that it would not have made a difference who or what I was, whatever got between him and his mission, his holy goal, had had to die. As an adversary to him, I would not have been different from a spectre he found in a hallway. Well, I would have been be more powerful, but it would not have mattered. That was one of the few things I used to know and with time did not want to know. But everything changed to the better.

And I was glad it did, so very glad. I sighed with contentedness. I whispered love once more and let his warmth lull me to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate begging for comments, but I'm gonna do it anyway.
> 
> Pleeaaaase leave a comment!


	13. Fragment 3, Part 1: The Script

I woke up from a very good rest.

I was alone in the room, but that was nothing unusual. I did not spend much time wondering about the mess of clothing all around me and simply collected all the garments before putting them on lazily. I was wondering about my location. Why was I in this room, I believed that my duty would be to be somewhere else. I shrugged it off as much as I could to continue my routine. After rolling up my sleeping mat and tidying any remaining mess in the room I was shocked to discover that my face was bare, my mask gone. I began to panic.

Where was it? Why was it gone? Was it stolen? I was looking all around me frantically, my gaze shooting from one point in the small room to another. My breathing became rapid. My worries vanished quickly when I saw it sitting on the floor by a counter. I decided not to question its positioning any more. I had wasted enough time. I had apparently slept in. And considering the timing, locations and a dozen other factors, the Batter would soon appear at the next location where he was supposed to meet me. He could only last so long without new supplies and there was no point in forcing the Player to steer the Batter all the way back to my previous location. And even if they did so I would not be present currently.

I thought about the Player's game play up until that point. He had not yet encountered the code necessary to open the next door and while he was usually quick at finding things and solving the riddles, this one might require him to walk back and forth a lot which took time. This meant that I had just enough time to stuff more merchandise into my bag. One never knows whether the Batter might suddenly be very rich in credits and able and desiring to buy ten times as much as usual. Those were the dreams of a greedy merchant that just so happened to be me. Credits. Lots of them.

I opened my backpack to take out some of the things I would not need, like the chess board. I reached inside without looking and encountered something wet and moist. I made a disgusted noise and pulled my hand out of the backpack again. It was covered in some kind of jelly and juices. I smelled it. Fruity. I licked it. Very fruity. I opened the bag wider with my dry hand and saw the now ruined pie remains resting on top of other objects. I raised my eyebrows at the pastry.

I pulled out the pie tin that contained it and looked at it in confusion for a few moments. I did not recall having stolen more pie or having eaten any recently. I put the tin onto the counter, deciding to get behind the mystery of the pie when and if I had time for it later. Despite the remaining time I had to get to where I needed to be, I felt like I was on schedule and I could not afford to miss a rendezvous with my possibly rich client. I cleaned my hand with a tissue I found in the pocket of my pants and I removed more objects from my bag and put them all onto the counter. There was no one who would steal them and this room was not accessible to the Player. 

I retrieved merchandise from the closest stock room and filled the backpack with it until there was no space left for anything else. I smiled to myself, happy with my work. I closed the bag, put it onto my back and eyed the pie suspiciously one last time before leaving the room. I took a generous look around, taking in my surroundings and realizing where I was and where I needed to go.

Beside the pie in the bag and my strange location nothing else seemed to be out of place. The Elsen were working hard, each doing their individual jobs, spectres did not dare to come anywhere near me thanks to my mask. Despite the normal seeming condition of everything I kept a close eye on my surroundings. I did not understand why something unusual would happen. I knew the script. I was not supposed to encounter anything out of the ordinary. In fact, if something that would seem strange happened I was supposed to be the one capable of explaining it. Like the behavior of the Elsen in Zone 3. 

There was no point in confusing me. The game existed for the purpose of having a Player and the Player only saw me every once in a while to buy or sell things and to ask me to help them out. They would not notice anything strange happening to me. They would not notice anything strange happening at all, because they would only consider it a part of the game. They would continue playing, accepting the thing that was out of the ordinary. That was if it was something inside the game unlike a bug, obviously. I doubted that the Player was stupid enough to consider things like an error message or an unresponsive game as a part of the game itself.

I kept walking. 

I passed doors and hallways, roads and plazas. I thought about things. Different things. The next time the Player exited the game, I had to visit the most important person in my life again. It had to be ages since I had last seen Sugar. I felt bad for her, being locked in that tiny basement, but then again it was for her own safety. And the game, of course. The game appeared to have priority over anything else, whether it was personal freedom, the value of a life or something else entirely. I was meant to not care about this, since I was essential to the game and could not refuse to do my part. I wondered what would happen if I suddenly went on strike. Then again the script was practically omniscient and would have foreseen me ever doing that and thus have a way of getting me back to doing what I was supposed to do. The script, although being merely like a blueprint to the game's plot and happenings, was a powerful thing that I would not mess with.

I also figured that I should pay Pablo another visit soon. I enjoyed matches of chess with him and talking to him. I thought about asking him about his beliefs on what would happen after the game, but then I remembered that he was not even aware of the end of our game, yet, so he probably would not know. The end of the game was probably the only thing I did not have exact knowledge about. I knew some things, but they were just very vague. Like blurry memories from one's early childhood. 

As I thought about memories and memorizing things a sharp pain shot through my head like a long thick needle thrusting violently through my brain. I crouched down and held my head. The pain left after a few seconds. I gasped, noticing that I had held my breath and stood up straight again and resumed walking. That was more than just an odd occurrence. Something strange was going on, maybe something with the game and I had to find out what. But there was no time at that very moment, because I had things to do, places to be. 

I did not know how important it was that I actually got to my next merchant spot quickly. The game was scripted so that the Player would meet me and I would be there faster than the Batter, no matter what. And it was impossible to go against the script. It was like a destination, like a determined fate. Even if I had tried preventing the scripted happenings they would still happen. The strings were pulled so that whatever happened, no matter what, was taken into consideration and would still work out to result in the scripted outcome. It was rather terrifying if one thought about it for too long, so I decided to wrap my mind around something else instead. Something less threatening and less powerful.

I thought about what I would do the next time I had actual freedom and was not bound to only be a merchant. The next time the puppeteer took their leave I would catch up on things I had not done in a while. I felt like I had been in a coma or at least a deep sleep for weeks and like I had missed and forgotten so much, although that did not make any sense. 

At the next opportunity I would get I would visit Hugo again. That poor, small, helpless child was probably lonely and bored seeing as both of his parents were busy with different things and I had not visited him in a while. I believed that he had taken a liking to me and his mother allowed me to go see him often. So I brought games or read him stories every once in a while. I used to do it more often but since the game started I rarely had any time to talk to anyone. I felt like the only things I could say anymore were my standard sentences, the ones I spoke when encountering the Batter once again. It felt weird to even think about saying something else, something that I thought of myself and not something that was practically placed into my mouth by the script. Yes, the script was like a higher, almighty entity.

I finally reached the spot I was supposed to reach and turned into the correct direction to face the Player. I would see the Batter approach from that direction so I could still sit down for a bit and only get up once I was in sight for the puppeteer. I sat down cross-legged and reached into a side pocket of my backpack. I sometimes listened to music while waiting for the Player to appear. It sped up the waiting progress unbelievably much. I took out the device necessary for it and the headphones and put on said headphones. I pressed the play button on the device. Nothing happened. I was confused and pressed it again. Still nothing. I did not understand why it would not work the way it usually did. The most reasonable assumption I made was that the battery was dead because the Play button got randomly pushed while in my bag and the device used up all of its juice on that unattended music session.

I sighed in annoyance and returned the device to the side pocket. With the very weird day I had had thus far, I would have enjoyed listening to some music and taking a dip into a world of harmony and thoughtless thinking. There was nothing I could do to kill some time since I had left all other objects in the small room I had woken up in for reasons I still did not know. I started to feel bored very quickly. But I was a patient being, so the waiting itself did not upset me.

Fortunately it did not take much longer for the Player to advance and find me. I got up and dusted off my pants as I saw the Batter approach me. For some reason it felt like my heart skipped a beat the moment the hero stepped into my sight and my cheeks became hotter than usual. Was I becoming sick? I shrugged it off and greeted my best customer in my usual voice. He asked me for some Fortune Tickets, a new bat and some epidermal items. With a well-hidden grin I reached into my backpack and quickly pulled out the requested objects. 

I felt like the Batter was avoiding to look at my face, or rather my mask and I considered it to be unusual. Up until then he had always stared at me with a piercing gaze as if trying to shoot holes into my mask with his mere eyes in order to see what the mask was hiding from him. This time, he seemed far more interested in a nearby wall and since there was nothing special about that wall I figured he was attempting not to look at me. I handed him what he asked for and gladly accepted the credits in return. The Batter glanced at me once and I felt like there was emotion in this glance, but then realized how little sense it made for the Batter to feel. I observed him being tugged away by his strings and stayed in my spot. Without moving or turning my head I watched him leave and become smaller to my vision and eventually vanish.

The Player was destined to pass me a few more times before being able to advance to the new area so there was no reason for me to move. I counted the credits I had received with glee. I knew from experience that they were the right amount, because that is how this game worked, but I enjoyed counting the exact amount I had gotten. 

Once I was done flipping through the bills I opened another side pocket of my bag and put them in. As I shoved the credits inside I felt paper rub against the back of my hand. It was a feeling very much unlike credits and I was sure that if anyone knew the texture, size and shape of credits, it was me. There were multiple sheets of that different texture. They felt like the paper one would find on a notepad. I pulled them out, curious about what they were and confused as to why they were in my bag. I looked into the direction the Batter had left into and upon seeing no one, not even in the far distance, I sat down again. 

I put the neatly folded sheets into my lap and took one of them and unfolded it. “The Batter.” I read out loud. I raised an eyebrow. This was my crude handwriting and drawing. I was certain of it, I knew if something was created by me. I read the other phrases and terms I had written down and they all were obvious attributes concerning the hero of this game. I did not understand the meaning of those sheets. I knew all of the things written down without some sheet of paper. And even more confusing than that was that I did not recall ever creating those sheets. I did not remember writing anything down ever since the game had started. Not even for stocking purposes, there was no need for me to do so.

All sheets were fairly similar. They all included information about a person or a race or another aspect of the game. I felt like someone was pulling a prank on me, like my confusion and concern were all existing for someone else's sick pleasure and amusement. I looked at the sheet of the Batter again and examined the drawing more closely. 

The headache from earlier shot through my nerves again and for a brief moment I saw myself sitting on a staircase holding a notepad and a pen. I was drawing something. I was drawing something and it was no ordinary drawing. It was that drawing of the Batter. 

The image vanished from my mind and the headache died down slowly, allowing me to resume thinking normally.

Something was happening and something had happened. I had a feeling in my gut that told me that something big was going on. A big movement, something much bigger than myself, bigger than the quest of the Batter. Rules were bent and broken, everything was out of order. I suddenly felt dizzy and hastily put the sheets back from here I had gotten them. I held my head with my hands, gripping my hair. What was going on? I needed to know. I did not care how crazy or scary the answer to my question possibly was. All I cared about was receiving it. One way or another. 

I felt like I was going to be sick and I wanted to run away from my spot, run away from the place I was supposed to be at. I wanted to sleep. Lie down somewhere and just sleep. I did not want to think about what was happening, I did not want to think about the game or my fate. And I no longer wanted to be the merchant. I just wanted to dream. I wanted to fall victim to wishful thinking, but I did not know what I was wishing for. Everything felt like a burden. Everything felt so wrong, although it was right. Everything was making me sick although it was my purpose.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up, raise my head high and scream loud enough for anyone in the zone to hear it. I wanted to shout and cry and be angry and sad. And I did not understand why and it was scaring me. Not knowing was scaring me so terribly much. Everything felt extremely unfair for no reason. I believed that life had forsaken me, that something or someone was causing me pain and injustice, although I knew that it did not make sense. There was no injustice about being the merchant and no injustice about earning credits. Was this supposed to happen to me? I had not seen it in the script, but maybe I had been lied to. Maybe I was destined to become insane. Maybe I would be an adversary. 

The eye in my mind saw the Batter beating me to a bloody pulp with his holy bat. My mask was gone, broken. My weapon was no longer in my hand. My blood stained his weapon, his clothes, myself and the floor. I tasted blood as I could see it pouring out of my mouth, from my throat. I smelled it. A sickening smell and taste. Like death and iron. I heard the sickening noise caused by the impact of the weapon on my body and the cracking noises my bones made as they shattered. 

I was breathing heavily. I knew I was only thinking that up. I was imagining it vividly. And yet it hurt. I felt it hurting. Not only in ways of physical pain, but much deeper than that. Somewhere deep within me. It hurt like I was losing something or someone. Something that I cherished and appreciated. Needed and craved. Held dear and loved. Something beside my life. But what?

I heard footsteps and the image left my head immediately. I knew that the footsteps belonged to the Batter. I had heard them very often. I felt like I had heard them far more often than I should have. They were so light. I got up again. The pain and agony slowly left my body and I was grateful to the purifier for that. If he had not come back for me I might have lost it that very moment. I corrected myself in my head. He had not come back for me. He had come back for merchandise or advice. Why I would think otherwise I did not understand. Him desiring to see me and not for my wares was utterly ludicrous. 

I watched him. He stood in front of me for an agonizingly long time without a word. The holy man. So holy in this impure land. So pure, so bright, so unique. I felt my cheeks heat up again. I believed to be suffering from a strong and ever growing fever. 

He avoided my gaze again. His puppeteer was letting him stand there. Maybe they were thinking about something, or busying themselves with something else. I felt extremely comfortable and extremely uncomfortable at the same time. I wanted him to say something. We had never made smalltalk, never talked about anything other than what he wanted to buy or sell, except for my small statements about who I was, or about the surroundings. But he had never responded to those. And now I wanted him to talk to me and have a conversation. I wondered what the puppeteer would think about that. They would probably consider it to be normal. But what would we even talk about?

I examined him, examined his face. The closer I looked the more attractive I considered him to be. He was handsome. The kind of handsome that one meant when saying and that was tempting one enough to take actual action. I wondered what he would do if I kissed him. Simply kissed him as if it was normal. Right there and right then. And what would the puppeteer say? I was tempted to try it. He glanced down at me, but upon seeing that I was looking right at him, he immediately turned his gaze away again. Would he kiss back? Would he shove me away harshly? For some reason I believed that he would enjoy it. 

I took time to observe him more, notice everything about him and feeling that I had noticed it all before. How pale he was, how well defined his features were, how athletic his shape was, how tall he was. How some strands of hair popped out from underneath his hat to greet the light, how he was holding his bat and ready to use it. That and more. So much more. I noticed how his chest was rising and falling with his breath and how his eyelashes brushed his cheeks for the split of a second when he blinked. 

He then finally requested more items, having collected more credits. I took the objects from my bag and just like before gave them to him and took his credits as payment. As he handed me the credits I felt his fingertips brush against my skin and I froze in my spot. The Batter did not seem to notice or care and neither did the puppeteer as they left me standing there.

I was frozen in my spot. He had touched me. His skin was against mine. I felt a loud and painful ringing in my ears. My arms moved mechanically to put away the credits given to me and they moved just as mechanically to retrieve a note from the pocket of my pants. I had not even known about that note being there, but I did not care. I read it. 

'I bought some Fortune Tickets and Abbadon's Meat.' 

The writing was very neat and tidy. But some of the letters were smeared and it looked like half the paper had been drenched in plastic. There were also some red liquid stains, but it was not meat. It looked like the inside of the pie I had stuck my hand into involuntarily.

And then it hit me. Hit me painfully. Like someone dropped a bomb onto me, like I had run into a wall, like someone threw a pie right into my face.

Memories rushed over me, overwhelmed me, shot through my head. Things I had forgotten, things I had longed to remember. Things that I had wished for, things that I had believed in, things that I had experienced. The game of chess, the race, the pies, the conversations. The pain, the sadness, the joy, the love. Everything came back to me all at once, making me dizzy and almost fall over. It was like a memory switch had been turned on in my head. A switch that was turned off with the eventual return of the Player. A switch that was essential to my being.

Without ever wanting it or ever having asked for it, I had exchanged my beautiful memories of the past weeks for those of the script.

But now I had both. I knew the script and I knew my feelings. And one way or another, they got in each other's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I'm a terrible person and I should be ashamed of myself. 
> 
> ... Comment, please~


	14. Fragment 3, Part 2: Dirty little secret

I stood there for a moment filled with happiness. I was remembering the time that had passed, the time of the Player's absence. When I was alone with the Batter and felt no need or urge to follow the script or sell or buy things. I had never thought that I would enjoy taking a break from the usual same old routine as much as I did. I made an almost silent sigh as I recalled that those beautiful times were over and it was back to the usual, which technically was not bad, but it was simply not as great as being with the Batter in a world missing the puppeteer.

A ringing in my head, similar to an alarm clock, told me that the Player had advanced a few seconds ago. I had to head to my next location. I liked to call this ringing my sixth sense. I did not know whether anyone else was alarmed of the Batter's whereabouts the way I was.

With another deeper sigh I got ready to go. I ensured that everything that needed to be in my bag was, in fact, inside of it and looked back once more to make sure that the Player was not returning that very moment. Then I took my leave and walked at a quick pace to avoid being late. I looked down at the floor as I was walking. So I knew. I had figured everything out and luckily I had not wasted that much time wandering and being a merchant without a clue. I thought about how fatal it might have been if I had found out only seconds before the game ended. Or maybe somewhere along the way when the Player was past the point of quitting the game for at least a few hours.

I tried to find out what I had to do next. It was like I just had received an important piece of information and was now attempting to make use of that information in the best way possible. I had to treat the situation with carefulness and take each step with thought so I would not make a mistake in my course of action. But in order to act accordingly to what happened during the Player's absence, at all, I had to discover how much my dear companion still remembered. 

I recalled his strange behavior that he exhibited as we made our merchandise-credit trade. He had avoided looking at me and he had not attempted to speak to me about what had happened or make any sort of physical contact. In fact, he had been standing in front of me still as a statue and without a single word for a long time, even though that was an exceptional chance to discuss things like private matters. He knew if the Player was watching or not and at that moment he certainly was not. Even I was able to tell. The opportunity had been perfect. Though this behavior differed from the one he had before the Player left, it suggested that he had no memory of being with me and no idea that he was actually quite taken with me. At least that is how I had understood his actions from the days before.

I thought about how I could ask him about the previous weeks. It would be hard to let it come up in a usual merchant to customer discussion, since the Player was observing and reading those. And if I spoke about their absence and what the Batter and I had done during it, the puppeteer would be confused and maybe even crept out. Technically that would not be a bad thing, the game we were in was not meant to be normal and usual. But I could not let them know that I and also most of the others were aware of our own existence as video game components, that we even had the capability to live and be aware like this. I did not know what the puppeteer would do or what would happen at all, but it surely was not something I was supposed to find out. So if I could not speak to the Batter while the Player was present, meaning during any time the game was turned on and the Batter was advancing, I would have to wait until the next time the puppeteer left.

But waiting was not a good idea, either. The only opportunity I could wait for was the Player's next time out, his next long leave with the game being exited and shut down. But there was no guarantee that this break would come soon or at all. The puppeteer had not played in a while so maybe they were intending on making up for lost time and play the game through to the end all at once. That might have been great for the Batter who would achieve his goals quickly, but it would have been terrible for me, because then there would be no chance for me to set things straight. 

Not getting the occasion to speak to the Batter in private was a risk I was not willing to take. I could not afford losing the chances I would be given even if a much better opportunity I did not know about would expose itself later on. I had to slip it into the conversation somehow or maybe try to give him a note that he would not show to the Player and not put into his inventory. It was also possible for me to attempt gesturing what I was trying to say to him, using some sort of pseudo-sign language. But how was I to make sure that he would understand me and that, if he decided to answer in some manner, I understood him in return, as well? I sighed. What precisely I was able to do would depend entirely on the situation. What the Batter needed, whether he said anything, where he stood, and more. It would also depend on his behavior and maybe his mood given that he was still having emotions. If he looked away once again I would have a hard time getting his attention without doing anything what the Player would see without being supposed to.

I tried to think about the positive aspects and parts of my situation, although it was complicated to find out about any that struck me as a pure advantage. At least I had no doubt that he would come across me on his quest and speak to me multiple times before the game ended, so I would get more than one chance if I happened to mess up my first attempts speaking to him. Even if the Batter did not wish to see me again after a failed attempt he would be forced to. Of course I hoped that nothing would go wrong or that he would still desire to see me after speaking to me the next time. There was nothing worse to me than making the Batter dislike me enough to be unhappy about seeing me.

One would expect me to be fully capable of talking to the Batter, without taking the difficult situation into consideration. But the truth was that talking to him, especially about serious matters, still appeared as a large and scary challenge to me. I would not know what to say specifically, how to word what I was attempting to say. Especially not if he did not remember our time together and I would be making a huge fool out of myself.

A worry shot through my head.

What if he really did not remember anything? And what if those memories would be lost forever? I had considered this option and even believed it for a second previously, but suddenly it seemed much more terrifying as if I only understood what this possibility would mean and would result in. I felt aware of the grave consequences his memory loss only then. Those consequences would not be as troublesome for him, but they would be for me. Not only because I would have even less of an idea how to talk to him and deal with him properly, but because that could mean that he no longer had feelings for me. Or feelings at all for that matter. 

The past few weeks had been a crash course in emotions for him and it was possible that he had forgotten all the material. Of course, he would not be bothered by it. Not only because he would not even recall having feelings and would thus not miss him but also, quite obviously, because he had no emotions and would not miss a thing in the world. If the whole world trembled and burned, he would still not care. And he would no longer be my hero and my savior and if everything fell apart he would not bother protecting me. Never again.

No. I could not allow myself to think like that. If I started thinking like that then I would be giving up on him and him and me together before even knowing what I was dealing with. I had to stay optimistic and believe that he still remembered and if not, that it was possible to recover his memories. I sighed loudly, optimism proved to be the more difficult option sometimes, but pessimism was lazy and in my opinion, in this situation it meant that I had already given up.

I reached the next location quickly. I expected to be able to see the Batter approaching from the distance, already, but I was disappointed, I did not see him. I hoped and prayed silently in my head that the Player was not making him turn around and go back to my previous location before advancing, because, even though I would be told that they were heading there I would have to go all the way back. This happened far more often than one would expect it to. It appeared that the Player was very careful and whenever they were uncertain about meeting me again or uncertain about what they were about to encounter or just not sure about anything, they went back to where they expected to find me although I was already half the way gone to my new location or sometimes already there.

But not that time. I was in luck and finally saw the athlete approach me. I took a few deep breaths. He was coming closer. My friend, my savior, my boyfriend. I had to say it somehow, I had to ask him about his memories, about his thoughts. Even if it was difficult. Even if it might result in disappointment, I had to do it. My cheeks flushed. The closer he came, the more rapid my breathing became. The more I saw of him, the more I felt like fainting. It was too fast. He was approaching me too fast. I wanted him to stop and stay where he was. I needed more time, I was not ready. I had to prepare more. I had to do something. I wanted to run away.

And then everything slowed down instantly. I choked as I tried to force out my trademark chuckle and stepped back with one leg when the Batter was in front of me. Go away. I thought about saying something. Go away, now. I could not think straight, how was I supposed to ask. Leave. I wanted to tell him to go away, to take off, to go on without speaking to me, but I could not. He was in front of me. He asked me for jokers. I stood there.

He did not look at me. It was the same game all over again. He was forcing himself to look away, he said only what he needed to in order to request merchandise and make me understand what he wanted from me and then he expected me to deliver without any complications or distractions. Like a good merchant would do it. And I did. 

As I watched him walk away from me, having left credits in my hand, I cursed myself for not saying anything. I had been unable to think up anything. Any way of communication, any secret message that he would understand if he were to remember the weeks with me. But it had been impossible for me. I had let him leave. I felt like a weak person.

I gritted my teeth. The Batter was gone once again. But I knew that this time, as well, he would be back. The Player had seen new merchandise but did not have the credits for it, yet. They would make my companion return after earning more. In the meantime I whipped out my notepad and a pen and quickly wrote down some things onto a sheet of paper. Some of them were directly questioning his ability to remember, others were more subtle and some of the things would only make sense to him if he remembered. I had to make sure. The last time I had asked him something like this directly was when I had first asked him to be in a romantic relationship with me. And that had turned out to be a failure since he was only attempting to make me content so that it would not ruin his merchandise supply. I folded it neatly and wrote 'Don't put this into your inventory' on both sides of the folded sheet. I then decorated the empty space with large exclamation marks to show the importance of the message.

In the end the sheet of paper looked extremely ugly and I realized that I had probably overdone it with all the exclamation marks. It looked like a five-year-old was demanding their parents attention by drawing crude exclamation marks onto something. But no matter, he would read it one way or another. Hopefully. 

My assumption had been correct and the Batter returned once more. He bought my new (considerably expensive) merchandise and was also directed to sell some of the things he was carrying. I received a lot of eyes. I pulled out the folded note and put it on top of the credits I handed him. He looked down at it, then back at me and raised his eyebrows at me as if trying to ask what I was doing. Before he could actually raise his voice to ask or before I could explain it, he was forced to move away, though. I could see him slipping the note into the pocket of his pants. I was glad that he followed the command on the paper and did not put it into his inventory for the Player to read. I assumed that my companion would read it once he got the chance to, or at least I hoped so. 

He did not return for quite a while. My legs got tired and I sat down. It felt like hours. And it was really strange. The Batter was supposed to pass me a few more times before continuing and even if he had advanced to the next area, I would have seen him at my new location. There was no way he had gone on without me knowing. That was for sure. But then why had I not seen him again? I could not determine whether the Player was absent or present. It was possible that he had left again and the Batter would be resting at whatever save block the Player left him at. But if that was the case why did the Batter not return to me? Even if he did not remember what I wished he remembered, there were reasons for him to come see me: The note I gave him above all others. And I refused to believe that he had forgotten about it or not read it out of spite.

So either the Player was purposefully not doing anything while the game was still on, forcing the Batter to stay where he was or the Player had left and the Batter did not wish to see me for some reason that I could not figure out. I considered checking on him by walking over to where I would most likely find him, but it was too risky if the Player was still there, because they would be able to see me. I yawned.

My hands were bound, I could only wait and hope for my companion to return to me soon. I was certain that we would meet again. There was no choice but for us to meet again, eventually. The Player would continue, I was sure of it. And then we would be forced to meet. Patience was one of my few skills so I had no problem waiting for the Batter to return to me. But the worries about my future and the worries about his would not leave me alone and forbade me to be at ease.

I sighed deeply after some time. I was starting to be extremely bored. But it was my own fault, I supposed. Except for my precious merchandise, I only had a music device with an empty battery and a notepad. Unfortunately I could not entertain myself by drawing. I was no good at it and I had no interest in improving my drawings or my drawing skill itself. There was no point in doing so. Maybe if I had more time or less responsibility I would take up some creative hobby. I also carried my weapon with me. I always did, I had to be able to protect myself and win at battle if the situation called for it. But the weapon was useless that moment, as well. I could not randomly whip it out and poke Elsen with it. That would not only be rude, but also fairly stupid.

I looked into the direction I knew the Batter to be in. Should I do it? Get up and speak to him? Risk the Player seeing me? I pushed those thoughts out of my head. It was not meant to happen. The script did not want it to happen. And the script just happened to be generally right.

Just as I thought about that the Batter reappeared. I got up quickly. He was moving mechanically and without will, a sign of the Player's presence. I could not ask him about what had taken them this long, so I had to accept that it took a while and be happy about my waiting time finally being over. The Batter stood in front of me. It appeared the Player was trying to find out what to buy so there was no harm in making a quick motion towards the Batter's pants pocket and looking up at him, as if questioning him whether he had read it. 

He apparently had seen the movement from the corner of his eyes and looked down at me. His expression showed confusion and he shrugged once before looking away from me again. Was he serious? He did not understand my message? Or did I read his movements incorrectly. The Player took their time so I dared whispering. “You don't remember?” 

The Batter looked down at me again. His eyes narrowed. “I – I believe you are making up false stories. You are acting strangely. You must stop.” 

He turned away. I was speechless. Not only did he not remember, but he was being incredibly rude and arrogant about it, too. What reason would there be for me to create stories like that? Was it that impossible for him to love me and do things with me? Was I that inferior? Was I not good enough? I had to control my anger as the urge to yell at him and push him came over me. He asked me for a new tunic. I was infuriated enough to burst. I handed him the garment and he gave me the credits. 

And then he had the nerve to change his clothes in front of me. I knew that this action was also caused by the Player, but I felt like the Batter was trying to spite me and play with me and make me angry. He left once again.

I wanted to punch a wall and slap a person. I was insanely mad. Mad at the Batter for acting like a superior being and mad at me for actually believing that I could be lucky enough for the Batter to remember our time together and also mad at the game and the Player for toying with me the way they did (even unintentionally) and not granting me the happiness of being loved.

But something was fishy. There was something about the entire situation that did not sit right with me. 

The Batter was definitely acting strangely. He had looked away every single time he talked to me, but it seemed as if he was forcing himself to do so. He had not done it before I had gotten closer with him. I refused to believe that it was simply something he did without noticing. A simple subconscious reaction to the time we had had together and mostly to having to return to the old routine. His focus had been on looking away each and every time, as if it was hard for him to do so. 

And his tone of voice had changed, too. Not only was it different to the tone that he used when speaking to me only a few days earlier, but it also differed from the the tone that he had used a few weeks ago before everything happened. This strange behavior started right away after the Player's return and it looked like he was not intending to behave differently ever again. I recalled another odd happening. Did he stutter when speaking to me about the note I had given him? Even though he said something that showed huge self-confidence and pride, he had stuttered. The day before he was warm and that day he was cold.

There was something wrong with him. He was hiding something from me. But what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a filler chapter, really :I
> 
> Comment please~!
> 
> (I could not resist naming the chapter this I hope you didn't expect more I'm so sorry.)


	15. Fragment 3, Part 3: One's self II

I had to find Sugar. 

I was mad and sad and confused and upset and Sugar was the best person to rid me of my worries, calm me down and give me some qualified advice. She was like a substitute therapist, specialized on my troubles and my life. Although I highly doubted that she had ever been in a situation like mine or a situation similar to mine, she would be able to help me somehow, that was for sure. And even if she was not able to give me any good advice, I would get some comfort and support in form of a few words or a caring platonic hug. I appreciated that, too, very much so. It was probably something I was in need of at time, anyway.

I would also get the chance to lock her up again. I felt like it was cruel to think of her like that, she was my beloved friend after all and not some sort of prisoner. But she was a threat to the game and a threat to the Batter and she had to return to the basement. I realized that what I had done thus far may have endangered the game, as well and considered not locking her up, after all. But it was my duty to make sure she was where she belonged, was it not? She was my friend, I had to make sure she was safe, right? I would have gone to find her immediately after waking up if I had remembered that she was not in her basement prison and known about the Player's presence. But how was I to find her?

Sugar loved her freedom, every second of it and she wasted hardly any time staying in one spot. She moved around from place to place, strolling, taking her time, doing as she pleased. Considering all the locations she could be at and the speed she could move at it was close to impossible to find her without any indication about her whereabouts, especially since I could look for her in a spot and she could move to that spot after I had looked and I would not consider her to be there, since I had checked that place, already, after all. 

And as if that was not enough it was hard for me to leave my spot for longer than five minutes, because of the Player's freedom to go and return whenever they pleased. It would bother no one if I was away while the Player had no chance of noticing it, but if they saw me missing, or even saw me wandering around and then randomly encountered me, there was no telling of what might happen. Sure, the script did not predict me having a chance encounter with the Batter like that, but it also did not predict me ever leaving my merchant spots. And I still felt uncomfortable and uneasy about going against the predictions of the supposedly omniscient script. It was like I was kicking my destiny with feet.

I jumped around from one foot to another impatiently. It appeared that my only chance to meet Sugar was if she coincidentally ran into me while I was somewhere where I was supposed to be. I could not stand the thought of that. She would not run into me like that. It simply did not seem possible, especially considering that I was not a lucky person to begin with. And the chances for her to meet me like that were just too small, even if I was not bothered by bad luck constantly. An idea came to my mind. What if she was already back in her basement? 

There were multiple reasons and ways for her to be back there in Zone 0. Maybe Pablo found her and locked her in or the return of the Player meant that her position was set to be where she was supposed to be, since she had no way of knowing about the puppeteer and was not going to randomly go back there. The last possibility was that she did know about the Player for some reason and decided to do the right thing and lock herself back in. I shook my head as I thought about that. Those thoughts were just wishes that I was making. Sugar was not responsible and decent enough to lock herself back in simply because it appeared to be the right thing in the current situation. She would never go back there if she had another option, even if that option meant possibly ruining everything. Why should she? Trading freedom and free will for imprisonment with a far more likely death is not something most people would do. 

But checking Zone 0 was worth a shot, if only I could leave my position. Only to check. Just once. I had to know where she was, at least. If I could not talk to her then I at least had to know that she was alright and that she was where she was meant to be. It would take away some of the stress.

I kicked those thoughts around in my head for a little longer before finally nodding to myself and making the decision to just go. I decided that I would wait for the Batter's next return, make sure that it did not seem like he was gonna be forced to return any time soon and then quickly take off. Zone 0 was small, it would only take a few peeks to know whether she was there or not. After that I could return to my spot, wait for the Batter to return once more and then look for her somewhere else. 

So that was just what I did.

The Batter returned after quite some time and bought plenty of things. That was most likely to be the most awkward deal I had ever made seeing as both, him and me, were trying to avoid looking at each other and avoid talking even more. In these attempts he did not even see the items I was holding out for him to take. Once I was out of eyesight for the Player I hurried away. I had a really bad feeling in my gut. It was more than only uneasiness. It was mixture of concern, sickness and the feeling that something was very, very wrong. Maybe this was the script's way of punishing me for leaving my spot. Maybe it would become unbearable, forcing me to return just in time for the Player to buy more things. But I had to try finding Sugar nonetheless. It was important to me.

I was out of breath when I got to Zone 0. I had run as fast as my legs would carry me. I was panting and I felt like I was being stabbed in the side because of my very uneven breathing. Additionally the uneasy and sick feeling had become worse, already. I looked around. I saw someone, but it was not Sugar. No, it was the white skinny cat with the cheshire cat grin. “Pablo?” I forced the name out of my mouth in between rapid breaths. I could swear someone was violently ripping at my lungs.

The cat turned to me. “Zacharie.” He said. There was no surprise in his voice, as if he had expected me to be there. But I believed I was a far less predictable guy than that.

“What are you doing here?” My breathing began slowing down and so did my fast heartbeat, the pain in my side started to fade away, but the one caused by running away from the spot remained and kept growing stronger and stronger, slowly at first.

The Judge narrowed his eyes at me and I was so sick of people looking at me like that. I was not a criminal. I had done nothing wrong and yet it seemed that everyone was bent on alienating me. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“The game is continuing right now, you shouldn't be here.” I did not mean to offend him or to scold him, but to simply point it out in case he did not know about it. Sugar might be on the loose, but the cat would know to do the right thing if he knew about the Player's presence.

Pablo narrowed his eyes even further. “Yes, I am aware. But it appears that you are, as well and yet you are here. I have nowhere to be right now, but you do. I can be here without any troublesome consequences. But you cannot. Why are you present, despite that? And I know that you know that you should not be here this moment.” I got the feeling that he was gonna hiss, jump me and try to scratch me.

“I have to see Sugar.” I gasped and blurted out. “Is she here?” I looked at him, I had hope for her presence, although it was small.

The Judge glanced at the door that had once led to Sugar's position. He looked at me again and shook his head. And thus my hopes were down the drain. “No, Sucre is not in this Zone. I have not seen her for quite some time now. But she is none of your concern, Zacharie. The game is and the Player and selling merchandise are. Go back to doing that. You will not find Sucre, not even if you searched everywhere. It is too unlikely. If I encounter her I will bring her back here. So consider her taken care of.”

“No, you don't understand, Pablo!” I yelled at him, although he had done nothing wrong. I was frustrated and angry and ready to murder someone in case I had to. “I have to see her. I have to speak to her. Now.”

The cat sighed. “What you have to do is get back to work.”

“You don't get it! I can't simply go back.” I paced back and forth, anxious to see Sugar and to hear her comforting words instead of Pablo's scorn for not being where I was supposed to be. 

“And why would you not be able to return? You were able to come here.” Pablo looked behind me, examining the exit as if trying to find out what was wrong with it and whether it was blocking my path in some way.

I bit my bottom lip. I had no time to explain everything to him, I had to find Sugar and get back to my merchant spot in time. The unwell and wrong feeling grew stronger by the minute. Pablo was gluing me to the spot I was standing in with his gaze. I had to explain it to him if I wanted to get anywhere. I had to vent to someone otherwise I would attack the Batter the next time I saw him and that was no good. And I had to find out what to do and my female friend was excellent in helping me with making plans. I would not find Sugar soon enough. The cat would have to suffice. “Look. Pablo. This is not because it's physically impossible for me to go back there, it's because I simply can't do it without help.”

“What kind of help?” The cat asked. I wondered for a moment whether he was just curious or whether he was actually considering helping me so I would go back to doing what the game told me I was supposed to do.

“Someone to listen to me and maybe support me and give me advice. And I need someone to help me plan my course of action. There's some problems that I just need to talk about before I can go back there.” I tried to explain. 

“That is the big deal? That is the reason you had to leave? Zacharie, what happened to you? You used to be a good merchant. You were reliable and you had your priorities set straight and now, after this whole endeavor concerning the Batter and feelings and the Player being away you cannot do the things that you were able to do before.” He frowned. “It is a shame. Your course of action should be clear. Be the merchant.”

He was absolutely not helping me vent or get the anger out of my system. In any case he was increasing said anger. “I'm sorry that you can't understand that I have feelings and emotions and wishes that go beyond standing somewhere around all day, selling things that the Batter may not even really need. But if you will just listen to me for five minutes, I'll be back to where you think I belong and out of your hair. But if I go like this I will probably freak out and no one benefits from that. That would only ruin things.”

“No. You cannot risk being here for five minutes. The puppeteer might see that you are absent in those five minutes. Or they might even come here in those five minutes. You have to go now.”

“I can't! Just listen, please.” I pleaded.

“You do realize that I told you, do you not?” He looked at me as if scolding me, lecturing me and belittling me. I was even more angry than before. If he listened to me this would be over within a few minutes. I did not want to argue with him and I did not understand him. Why could he not see that I had to talk to someone before going back there?

“What?” I was dumbfounded, I did not know what he was talking about.

“I told you that once the Player has returned you would be unhappy.” He hissed the words, I did not need him to tell me things like that. I was already feeling bad. “And I told you that it was not a wise idea to become close to the Batter. It was quite obvious that once he returned you would no longer be happy, because it could be easily predicted that he would set his priorities straight and return to his quest. That is why you are troubled, is it not?”

“No, you're wrong.” I glared at the white cat. “I mean-” I hesitated. “I guess you're right about one thing. The Player is back and that puts all kinds of pressure on me and disables me to do all sorts of things that I would like to do. But the Batter didn't decide that he rather wants to spend his time purifying than spending time with me. It's not that he doesn't want to be with me. It's just that he doesn't remember the past few weeks. If he did he wouldn't be doing what he's doing! And besides, he has no control over his body. He is forced to do what the puppeteer wants him to.”

“Sure, sure.” He did not believe me. He thought I was making excuses. His tone of voice showed that to me.

“That's the way it is, you know I wouldn't lie to you!” I shouted at him again. I had no idea what was up with him, he was being rude and mean and weird.

“I believe you, Zacharie.” He said that, but I still did not believe that he meant it. “But I also believe that you are suffering from the consequences of grave errors that you made. Not only was it foolish to let feelings for the Batter develop, but it was even worse to forget what is important in this world.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” I sounded more offended than I wanted to. I was genuinely interested in what he was talking about. What was that important and what was it that I had forgotten?

“The one and only priority that everyone, absolutely everyone in this world should have is doing what they are supposed to do. We should all do our duties and jobs.” He looked at me with a very stern gaze. I could not tell whether he was mad at me or simply trying to make me understand the importance of his words. I knew that what he said had meaning and was right in some way, but that did not mean that I had to accept it and agree with it the way he wanted me to. “And you are not an exception. In fact, you are quite the opposite. Being a merchant should be above anything else to you.”

I sighed. I was ready to turn around and simply leave without dignifying his statement with a response and go to a silent spot and try to get responsibilities, emotions and the world out of my head once and for all. “Pablo, you do understand that by lecturing me like this you are practically just wasting the time I could be using to vent and get out of here, right?”

“It would be a far more dangerous waste of time for you to do that. I am trying to bring you back to your senses! Forget the Batter, forget what happened. Focus on what is happening now and what is important now. Do it for your well-being and the well-being of everyone in this world.” The cat's gaze softened a little. “Why do you keep insisting on doing foolish things? You know you're making mistakes. You know what you are supposed to do and yet you keep pushing against it.” His gaze had changes so much within a few seconds. It was like instead of lecturing me and being disappointed in me, he pitied me for being stupid or foolish or misguided or whatever it was that he believed I was.

“I believe in what I do. I think that it's the right thing and I plan on doing more things I consider to be right. I have to remind the Batter in some way of what happened. I know you think it's wrong and you think that I should leave it be. But I think that, if nothing more, the Batter deserves to know what happened and deserves to make his decisions based on proper knowledge and not solely on his wrong memories.”

Pablo tilted his head. “Putting the obvious arguments against your irrational behavior aside, how are you even certain that the Batter does not remember? How can you be sure that he is not simply lying or benefiting from proper beliefs and responsibilities?”

“I made sure of it. I tested it.” I refused to elaborate.

“How?”

I did not know why but I felt uncomfortable telling Pablo about the method I had chosen, passing him the note and observing his reaction. I felt like he was gonna point out several faults in what I had done and made me unsure of my decision to get my hero back. “That's not important. Just believe me. I made sure of it and he does not remember. Pablo, you're not a bad person. You believe in truth and righteousness.”

“I suppose I do.” He responded, letting my secrecy about my method of testing the Batter slide. 

“Then you should understand my motives.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. 

The cat sighed. “I know that I will probably not be able to change your mind, merchant. But please keep some things in mind.”

I listened up. It seemed that he was finally done trying to convince me of the bad and stupid contents of my actions so I was more willing to listen to what he had to say. I did not feel a sense of victory for being able to show Pablo that I would not budge away from my beliefs and intentions. Instead I felt uncertainty and uneasiness, because I knew that what I was doing was not correct. The nausea in my gut had kept growing and I felt terrible. I knew that I had to return soon. But there was no reason for the cat to know that.

“What you are doing or what I believe you might be planning on doing, messing with the script, is incredibly dangerous. You are not only putting yourself and maybe the Batter in danger, but every living being in our world. So please at least be careful and think something through before you do it. It might be of vital importance for everyone that you do this.  
Furthermore I know that you know deep inside that you are actually doing something stupid and that you are bound to make huge mistakes. Not only do you know this, but I predict this to happen. If I am wrong that is excellent and I really hope that I am. But my assumptions have been almost exclusively right before, so it is very likely that these predictions will come true, as well. I have told you multiple times now about what I believe you should do and about my opinions of your strange and unreasonable behavior. Yet you have chosen to keep trying and keep fighting for your beliefs. While that normally are noble and proud intentions I believe that you are misguided right now. I will ask you one last time to reconsider. Do the right thing, Zacharie. You're a good merchant. It is what you were made to be. Do not make foolish errors and doom us all.”

I sighed, my anger was vanishing. I was never going to convince Pablo of my motives. He would always answer like this, scold me like this and try to change my mind. But he was no longer forcing me and I could tell that, although he did not do it on purpose, he was attempting to understand me and tolerate my choice. And despite him disagreeing with me, he was obviously still my friend and still important to me and so was his opinion. So I was glad to get his forced approval of free will. “Sorry, Pablo. But I won't change my mind anymore. Even if I reconsider a million times, I'll come to the same conclusion a million times again. I can't risk not having tried. When the game ends, and the way it's going it certainly will, I just can't not know what could have been if he had remembered. I cannot bear the thought of letting him go without all the emotions I taught him.”

Pablo looked down. “We are doomed then, I suppose?”

I chuckled. “If your predictions are once again correct, then yes, we are all terribly doomed.” I knelt down and petted the cat's head. He made involuntary purrs and bumped his head into my hand. I knew that he enjoyed this more than he was ever going to admit to me. “But I have to be selfish, Pablo. I have to give it a try. Who knows, I might fail at everything and everything will go the way it is supposed to. The Batter will not love me again and I will simply be forced to accept that.”

“Yes... Maybe...” He spoke in between purrs. “Have you figured out what exactly you wanna do?”

“Not really.” I admitted. “I was gonna think about this together with Sugar, but, well, she's not here so I will just come up with something sometime.” I stopped petting him.

“You should go back and plan on your spot then.” He licked his paw and cleaned his head with the slightly wet paw. “You might as well think somewhere where you will not immediately ruin the entire game concept.”

“You're right.” I had definitely not expected to say those two words in that order to him. Especially not that day since we had disagreed on almost everything we had spoken about. From the first sentence that was spoken on there was nothing we thought about the same way. I stood up again. “You're very right this time.” He was. The unwell feeling and borderline pain had begun growing faster and I did not wish to find out what would happen to me once it became overwhelming. The conversation had done a good job distracting me from it, but it was starting to become unbearable. “Goodbye, Pablo. Maybe we'll meet again without the entire world being destroyed.”

“I do hope so.” He nodded. I turned my back on him to walk to the exit and get back to where I was supposed to be. Before I could get lost in my thoughts I heard his voice again. I stopped to listen. “One more thing. Like last time we parted I have to ask you to take care of yourself and make sure that while you may lost a lot of things, a lot of important things and unimportant things, you have to remain calm and stay yourself. Even if your new self is no longer the greedy merchant that dutifully ran from place to place to sell and do nothing else. Keep your mind intact.”

“I will. You do the same, too.” I advised.

“I do not think that I will have any problems with my self or my mind, I am very skilled at things considering the mind and thoughts.” I heard pride in his voice, but decided not to comment on it.

“I'm off then.” I said again, making sure that he knew I had to leave and that he would say everything he had to say before I was gone and he would end up talking about important things to no one but himself and the emptiness of Zone 0.

“Yes. Farewell.” He simply said.

I headed for the exit and took my leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting so lazy with this I wonder whether it's just my interest in this fic leaving or whether I'm generally just meh-ish about doing things.
> 
> Comment, please~!


	16. Fragment 3, Part 4: Hey Batter, Batter

 I arrived back just in time as I saw the Batter return. It appeared that nothing was out of the ordinary so I decided to believe that the Player had not noticed my absence.   
  
I thought the puppeteer was going to make their puppet buy more merchandise and I began to prepare myself for another confrontation with the pure man, telling myself repeatedly to remain calm and act normal and do nothing strange or anything that would draw unnecessary attention to myself or to how uncomfortable I was. But those preparations proved to be completely useless as I had been wrong and the Batter passed me without giving me as much as a glance and headed into another direction. I sighed in relief. At least I did not have to let that man test my patience and nerves again.  
  
When I was sure the Batter was gone once again I sat down and looked to the ground. Everything my companion was doing was getting to me easily and I felt like that was a mistake. If this continued I would end up disliking, maybe even detesting the very sight of the Batter. It was not the Batter's fault that everything turned out the way it did. It was not his fault that he forgot and it was not his fault that I was in pain again simply because I had dared to have feelings for him. I tried to force myself to believe these sentences, but the more often I repeated them to myself the more I felt like I was lying and I did not understand why. It was the truth. I supposed I needed someone to be mad at. Someone to blame this mess on. But if I blamed it on myself then how would I be able to do anything? The Player. It was the Player's fault for leaving in the first place. They had given me the opportunity and now they had taken away the achievements I had worked on with a lot of effort.  
  
I shook my head with a deep sigh. There was no point in looking for a scapegoat. Even if I were to find someone and even if that someone was the Player, thinking about this was a waste of time. And time was more precious than ever before, because with every minute that passed the Player got closer to the end and the chances for me to get the Batter to remember me and be with me became slimmer. I had to act quickly. I did not know how to act, though. I was ignoring the unpleasant possibility that restoring the Batter's memory might not work, no matter how hard I tried.  
  
I thought of the limits I had. For the sake of the game and also the sake of everyone I could not let the Player see my attempts. Pablo's words were still flying around in my head and I knew that I had to be careful. There was no point in simply risking everything if I was still able to keep things safe and intact. I considered my options. Maybe I could coax him into remembering at least his feelings for me if I confronted him more often about it? That or he would become annoyed. Very annoyed. Annoyed enough to take that holy bat of his and do something about his annoyance. Then again he could not do that as long as he was tied to his strings. Well, he already seemed to dislike me at that very moment, I had nothing to lose.   
  
I decided to do it. Force the Batter to remember it. I told myself that I could do it if only I tried. I did not believe it, but at least I had told myself.  
  
There were probably plenty of ways to do what I had in mind, the amount was reduced by me having to stay out of the Player's sight, but there still were enough ideas and options for me to have to plan out my actions properly.   
  
After a while I figured out what I wanted to do. Or rather, what I wanted to do first. As my mind developed this first plan, thinking of every option, every way it could go, every possibility, every difficulty and more, other plans had popped up in my head on the side, as well. Small ideas that leaked out from my first plan.   
  
I waited until the Batter came around the next time with more credits and more things he was told to purchase. I handled the deal with my normal merchant attitude. I did not let it bother me that his gaze was fixed to the wall. I did not let him notice how much his presence meant to me. I watched him leave again. I estimated about when the Player could most definitely not see me anymore and as soon as that time came I hurried after the Batter. I stayed close to the wall that always prevented the Player from seeing things. The one on the bottom. I hid in secret doorways and behind objects, making sure every time that I was safe from the puppeteer's eyes.   
  
At first this seemed like a real challenge and I was worried about them possibly seeing me constantly. But as I noticed that they did not approach me, did not speak to me and thus must not have seen me, I became more confident in myself and moved around more quickly and with more agility. It seemed that while the Player was oblivious to my presence, the Batter was not. I saw him glance at me very often and his gaze told me every time to leave and go back to where I had to be. I wanted to yell at him that I would not leave without trying, but I could not do that, obviously.   
  
The pain struck me again, of course. I felt sick and uneasy once more. But there was nothing I could do about that now, was there? No, of course not. I had to deal with it, had to bear the suffering and had to believe that attempting to let the Batter know about the past was worth it.  
  
I was waiting for an opportunity to speak to him, I observed him very closely and tried to conclude what the Player was doing or trying to do merely from seeing what actions they tugged their puppet into. I then saw the Batter head for a wall with a doorway to nothing. The Player could not make the Batter enter that doorway. It was off-limits for the puppeteer and their puppet. It was the perfect place for me to hide and my companion was walking to it. So I seized the moment and ran to the doorway. I believed that I had never run that fast in my life before. I made it. The Batter arrived at the doorway, but I believe that the Player had not seen me sprint over.  
  
“Batter.” I whispered. The puppeteer would not be able to hear or read it, I was sure. I was hidden after all and these messages were not supposed to be translated to text. “Batter, listen.”  
  
The man stared at me for a moment before turning his head away stubbornly, trying to tell me to leave and to tell me that he was in no mood to talk to me and had no intention of acknowledging my tries to contact him.  
  
I made a displeased noise before continuing. “Batter, just listen, you don't even have to respond, just listen. I'm not crazy, okay? We had something. You and I. In the past few days, weeks, the Player was absent. My memory got erased, too, once that puppeteer returned, but I managed to get it back. I'm sure if you tried, you could get it back, too! You enjoyed being with me, I promise!”  
  
The Batter simply shook his head slightly before being dragged away by his strings. I followed him again. I hid behind a stack of boxes to talk to him some more. “Don't just shake your head at me, Batter! It's true. You had emotions, too. We fought, even. And you were capable of happiness and anger and confusion and love. Don't you want to be able to feel?”  
  
“Stop distracting me.” He said with a stern voice as he was tugged to continue walking. He was probably worried about the Player noticing this strange behavior of his. Randomly speaking. If the Player was able to hear it or see it, that is. I shook my head. No, the Batter had no emotions. He did not worry. He did not care about the puppeteer, either.   
  
I kept stalking him, though. I had to keep trying. I hissed once. The pain had grown stronger again. I cursed underneath my breath as I hurried to the next hideout. “No. I will not stop until you remember. You have to remember.”  
  
“You are delusional.” He said and it hurt a lot. It hurt more than anything else he could have said. Even if he had said that he hated me it would not have hurt as much as being called delusional. It meant that everything I had experienced with him was unreal. And that the idea of me teaching him emotions and of him loving me was ridiculous enough to be a hallucination or a dream of mine that I could never turn into plain reality.  
  
“No, I'm not!” I realized that I could have made a better comeback than that, but it was too late. “You are simply being stubborn.”  
  
“Leave.” He demanded before continuing to walk once again.  
  
I wanted to keep going and run to the next place and confront him again and again until he wanted to remember and admitted it and was at least willing to try remembering and willing to believe in what I was saying. But I could not. It appeared that the script was punishing me more harshly as I was interacting with the hero of the game without being supposed to. I had no choice but to go back. The way the Player was playing I would soon have to move on to another merchant spot, anyway. So instead of pursuing the remains of my plan and talking to the Batter again I started to walk back. I did not bother hurrying, seeing as the Player was far off. I could tell from their habit that they would walk all the way back once more to see me. I made a stop before returning to the spot and looked at the plain wall I had stopped in front of. I slipped a pencil out of the backpack that I had carried around with me and drew on the wall, so that only my companion could see it. It was the bottom wall.  
  
Drawing with a pencil on a wall was a challenge, especially since I had to make sure that the Batter would notice it and I only had that one wall to use. The pencil lines were thin and not all that noticeable so I put a lot of pressure on the drawing utensil and drew over lines a few times, making them a bit thicker. I was drawing the all too familiar room that we had woken up in several times. I also drew my makeshift bed and some other things that would make the room recognizable. I had to, because I was still no good artist and the Batter was going to have a hard time recognizing it was a room, let alone a specific room. I realized that moment why being capable of drawing was a useful skill, after all.  
  
I heard footsteps. The drawing was not done, yet, it was not good enough, not detailed enough to trigger the Batter's memory. The Batter was approaching. He was coming closer and closer. I started to draw frantically, trying to finish the drawing. Closer and Closer. I felt the pain tear at my insides and my breathing became heavier. I panted and held my stomach as my other arm was busy moving quickly to draw and make more lines with the pencil. I turned around. He was almost there. The Player was seeing me. I was sure of it. He saw me and he was confused and everything was going to end and then we would all be punished and I would die. It hurt so much. Everything hurt.  
  
I ran. Ran like hell. Everything hurt but I ran.  
  
I began to recover only when I reached the spot I had been on. I was panting and sat down. Then I laid down. I looked into the distance. That distance happened to be in the direction in which the Batter and the Player were still in. I closed my eyes. I hoped, begged, prayed that I had not been seen. Everything would be over. I did not know what would happen, but it would be something that was absolutely not good. I could have prevented it if I had been more careful. If I had not insisted on doing everything at once. My breathing became normal again.   
  
I waited. I waited for something to happen. I did not know what it was I believed would happen or what possibilities of happenings and immediate consequences existed, at all. I opened my eyes again. The Batter was not there. I sat up. He was not there and he was not approaching from any direction. I looked around. Nothing was going on. Nothing had happened and nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Everything was absolutely and completely alright. Maybe I had not been seen, after all. The puppeteer would surely check whether I was still there if he had seen me draw. Everything was alright. So far. I calmed down, finally.   
  
I had learned my lesson, though. I had to be more careful and had to stop playing with the risk of being caught as I had been doing up until then without even noticing it consciously. Drawing simply took too long. And writing with pencil on the wall was a waste of time. Words were spoken far more quickly than written and they were more likely to be noticed if they were spoken. And spoken words simply conveyed more emotion and more meaning. When speaking I could show what I meant with the tone of my voice.   
  
I sighed and laid down again. The Batter was so very annoyed by me, already. And I had only tried a few times. I began to wonder whether annoyance counted as a proper emotion, but I supposed that it was not a true emotion until it became anger. I considered teaching him the emotions again, but quickly kicked that idea out of my head as I knew that it would take way more time than I had and was close to impossible with him not willing to learn and focusing on his important holy quest.  
  
The only option I had was to get him back to being the way I knew he could be.   
  
I got up. I was going to do it more often. Again and again, until it would finally work. At the next opportunity I took off again.  
  
Time passed, it may have been hours, I could not tell because I did not feel the flow of time properly. In this time I tried over and over again to talk to the Batter and to get him to finally listen to me, to pay attention to me and to believe in what I was saying, but to no avail. I had to change my spot and I hurried to the new place so that I could keep following the Batter around again. I started leaving notes on the bottom wall that went strictly ignored by the person they were addressed to. The hope that I had tried to built up, that I had focused on building up inside of me was shattering piece for piece as he showed absolutely no interest in me. My pleading for him to listen became empty and repetitive. My ideas became dull until I had no new ones. Everything I tried was failing. The pain grew stronger every time I left my spot to give it another try.   
  
And I realized after what must have been way too much time that I was not taking the pain in order to make him remember. I was not taking the pain for attempting to convince him. Those were possibly small side factors, but they were that at most. What I was truly taking pain and agony for was to pretend to be with him. To pretend that we had to the chance to be happy together. To be physically close to him, not as close as I was just a day before, but close enough for that moment. I suffered so that I could watch him, observe him and love him from that small distance.  
  
And once I had realized this I decided that I would do what Pablo had told me to and stay where I belonged according to the script. And I decided to be the merchant only. To get over him in the little time I had. Because all my feelings had ever done to me was pain. Pain, pain, pain. Over and over again in different forms and shapes with different triggers. The feelings I had for that holy man were guilty of destroying and ruining everything for me.   
  
And that moment I felt a new kind of pain. An indescribable kind. I gave up on everything. I had done so before if I recalled correctly, but this time I was done, simply done. The game could end, we could all die. I did not care anymore. It would be better than being in pain. I did not want to be in pain anymore. It was stupid. I never hurt this way before I developed those troubling feelings for such a troublesome person. Before that I had not even cared about emotions of that sort and relationships and being in love. I had considered love to be only another feeling in the collection of emotions that one was usually able to feel. And then suddenly, as if pierced by it, it became the most important thing to me. It erased my priorities and my duty and replaced everything else I had ever believed in.  
  
And it felt warm.  
  
It felt so warm. And I believed that I was constantly wrapped in warm blankets. That I was caressed and hugged by love itself and bathing in the warm waters of fulfillment. This warmth, it was a happy warmth. A content warmth. A warmth that asked for nothing more than simply being warm and warming me and being there. And I did not bother thinking twice about it. I accepted it into my life very quickly and embraced it and acted on it. But I misunderstood that warmth. I had too much trust in it.   
  
The warmth were no blankets, it was no hug and nothing about it was happy or content. The warmth I felt was my own blood. Slowly pooling around me and flowing out right from my still pounding heart. The warmth, so desired and yet so hated made my head spin and turned my world upside-down and I let it, not because I embraced it, but because I feared it and I had no other choice. There was no getting up anymore, there was no leaving it anymore. I was on the ground, dieing from love. Dieing from warmth.  
  
I had been lied to. No, I had lied to myself. And I had believed everything.   
  
I felt tears forming in my eyes and I did not bother wiping them away. I let them go, let them stain my face with their salty taste. I sat up again. I rested my head on my arms and my arms on my knees. I was exhausted from living the way I had to and exhausted from doing what I did. I was tired of the pain, tired of trying and tired of making myself hope and accepting the shards this hope was always turned into. And with each new hope I made myself. Each promise I thought of making to myself, the hopes became thinner and thinner like a thin pane of glass.   
  
The Batter did not remember and he never would. I had to accept it although I probably would not be able to. I would not be able to accept this cruel fate, not even when drawing my last breath.   
  
I was caught up in my thoughts and self loathing so I did not hear the light footsteps of my companion that were coming closer until the very last moment. I got up quickly. I was worried for a second that the Batter would see that I had cried and wondered what he would think of that. But then those worries were exchanged with gratitude towards my trusty mask as it protected my face and tears from being seen and protected my mind from having to stand the coldness of the Batter even after my obvious emotional breakdown. I sobbed once but then made my trademark chuckle, I had to, it was part of the script.  
  
The Batter requested something and I reached into my backpack to get it. I had to dig a little bit, hoping for the Player and the Batter not to get too impatient with my services. I looked away from my companion and into the backpack to increase the chances of me actually finding the item. I finally did after a few more seconds. I stood up straight. And then I noticed it. The Batter had been staring me down as I had been trying to find the requested object. And just then I was looking back at him, wondering for a brief moment why he had stared at me. And then I saw it. He blushed. He blushed quite brightly and forced his gaze back to the wall. I was baffled.   
  
He gave me the credits quickly, took the object and seemed more than happy when the Player tugged him away. I looked after him. A blush. A very visible, very unusual, very unexpected blush. It had been on that beautiful pale face of his and I knew that it had a reason to be there. There was no blush in the world that appeared without a proper reason.  
  
I was confused. The blush. And his generally weird behavior. He forced himself not to look at me, he treated me badly, he stuttered, he blushed. Did he remember, after all? One only blushes when feeling something and the Batter only felt during the absence of the Player, to my knowledge and he blushed when looking at me so that meant that he felt something in my presence. But in order to feel he had to remember. The way he acted and especially that blush. There was no other way than him actually remembering.   
  
The pain went away.  
  
He remembered, he knew. It was all an act. He was simply trying to fool me. But why? Why would he not want to talk to me and why would he not want to be with me? He had enjoyed it, I was certain of this. He had wanted it and wanted more and he had moved the relationship forward, as well. It was not unrequited, it was not one-sided. The Batter had done a great job helping, whether he wanted to or not. Maybe he had no choice. Maybe the Player's return was forcing him to be like that. But then why would he not even slip me an unnoticed smile or listen to me speak? There was something wrong with him. I could not tell what it was, but if there was any chance that I was able to fix it I had to do it. My spirits were up again and they were up high. I already considered breaking down the way I did to be extremely stupid. Everything had gotten to me, everything had been too much. If only I had known then I never would have had dark thoughts like those.  
  
I left again. There was no other option now. I had been given a chance, after all and I had to realize it, take it and use every bit of it. I followed the Batter, I ran and ran and the same game of hide and seek began again. Only that I was both, hiding and seeking instead of doing just either. I hid again and waited for him to approach. He was going to. I knew the layout of this place. He was going to be there. And then a moment later my prediction became reality. “Why did you lie?” I whispered at him, my voice harsher than even I had expected it to be. He gave me a glance. I saw surprise and shock in his eyes, although his body language and expression suggested no change in his dull emotional state.   
  
I did not think that he would respond to me anymore, since he, for whatever reason, was pretending not to know several things. But he did. “I have never lied.” And his response was not satisfying. I frowned. He was such a liar. For the purest or pure men he sure had no hard time lying straight to my face. He kept walking.  
  
I kept stalking. I once again ignored the seething pain that was growing within me like a tumor. I found another hideout. “Yes, you have! You just did. You remember. You remember everything. Why can't you be honest about it? Why do you have to lie and pretend you don't care about me. I know you do.”  
  
“You are delusional. I have told you this before. Leave.” His voice was cold but I heard that he did not mean it. I could finally hear that he did not mean one word of it. That he wanted to say the opposite instead. So why could he not? We were whispering, the Player obviously did not notice.   
  
“I saw you blush!” I hissed at him, in a similar fashion to Pablo's feline hissing.  
  
“Delusional.” He said again and turned away from me and left.   
  
Had I been wrong? About being given another chance? About the Batter actually wanting to be with me? I sighed and leaned against the wall. The Batter was directed to walk away. I stared into nothingness. I had done it again, hadn't I? Gotten my hopes up only to get them crushed. Only moments earlier I had known that my hopes were thin glass that would shatter. No. No! This was not me. Pablo was right, I could not give myself up. I was not like that. I was not a person that simply stopped trying because it did not work a few times. I was stronger than that.   
  
I chased after my companion. I had to tell him to leave the Player. Reason with him and make him understand that that damned puppeteer was the reason for much suffering, that they let the Batter down when he needed them and that they should not be trusted. They would probably even betray him in the end. I would not let some entity with all control over my precious Batter take him away from me. I deserved better than that. And I knew it. And finally, I actually believed it. I chuckled and the chuckling turned into laughter. How much pain would it cost me to actually believe in myself and be stronger? How much pain would I need to finally be a confident being?  
  
I ran quickly, past the position where the Batter was to a place he had yet to pass. There I would lurk and wait and confront him again. Well, from another hideout. I could still not risk the Player noticing me. As I moved I ran into something. Or someone. The thing took a gasping breath.  
  
“Hhhhhh...”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Zacharie on a rollercoaster of emotions. Up and down, up and down.
> 
> Comment, please, dearies~!


	17. Fragment 3, Part 5: Go Cold Fish III

I stepped back and stared at the Elsen. He was gasping and panting and I could tell that he was gonna become burnt in a matter of seconds. “Crap.” I muttered and glanced behind me. Did I have to fight him? Or could I leave him for the Batter to find? No, he would attack me. I cursed. The Elsen kept breathing and panting as if trying to prevent becoming what he was destined to become. I felt sorry for him, I felt sorry for every single one of the Elsen folk that was met with this terrible fate, but I had to defend myself and take him down once he became burnt.

I got ready to take out my weapon when someone grabbed the little guy from behind, tugged him backwards and poured sugar out of a little bag into the little fellow's mouth. I sighed in relief and examined the savior of the moment. To my surprise it was a girl I knew very well. And that girl had the fitting name for pouring the white substance into people's mouths. 

“Sugar!” I said her name in surprise. She let the now calm little Elsen go and grinned at me. The Elsen took off.

“Zacharie!” She said, mimicking my tone of voice, although she was obviously not as surprised as I was.

I pulled her into a hug.

“What an affectionate merchant you are!” She giggled and wrapped her arms around me and planted a kiss on the cheek of my mask. Why she did this, I did not know, she was aware that I would not feel a thing even if she decided to lick my mask.

I looked behind me. Fortunately, it appeared that the Batter was still busy walking around so the Player could solve an upcoming mystery. I looked back at Sugar. I felt the pain in my body again and gasped as it suddenly struck me, only because I had managed to forget it before and was remembering it then. “Why are you here?” I asked as I let my friend go and she did the same in return.

“Well, why am I anywhere?” She snickered. “I don't know! Just passing through. What about you?” She smiled happily at me. I had to tell her to go to the basement and have someone lock her in. But how could I do that when she was giving me that honest, precious smile that even made me feel a little happier? 

“I'm busy.” I replied and scratched the back of my neck and looked to the ground. The Batter was probably approaching us as we spoke, I had to make sure that she left so I could hide properly, or in case the pain got much worse, leave, as well. “Um, Sugar, there's a thing you have to do.”

“Oh?” She said in surprise and tilted her head. “And what might that be?”

“You-” I hesitated, I had to do it and I knew it, it was the right thing to do in order for the game to work properly. “You have to go back to the basement in Zone 0 and make sure that you're locked up. I can lock it for you. Let's go right now.” I took her arm and was fully intending to drag her all the way to the golden Zone if necessary. Just to get her out of there.

“What? No!” She shook her arm free from my grasp and looked and me with a deep glare. “I'm not going back there, Zacharie. I am a free person now. There's no way I'm going back to that cell just to waste time sitting around, doing nothing and being bored. And you can't make me go!”

“You have to!” I said. There was no anger in my voice, I was only being strict. I had to make sure that she knew how important it was and how serious I was about bringing her back there. “The Player has returned, the game is continuing and if you don't go then the game will be ruined. The Batter will walk to this part, you absolutely cannot be here when that happens. Let's go. I'll accompany you.” I gasped in pain once. I tried to grab her wrist to tug her away, but she pulled it back the moment I reached out for it.

She shrugged. “So he'll meet me sooner than expected. Who cares? If it's gonna happen later it may as well happen now, right?”

“No, you don't understand. He's not strong enough, yet and you are only an extra boss who maybe even won't be found. You have better chances staying there, please, let's just go I don't think it's a good idea for you to remain here. I don't want anything bad to happen, anymore. Enough bad things have happened, don't you think?” I tried to convince her, tried to make her see that her presence would bring more than one negative consequence. That people might suffer because of her. The Batter, her, even me and many others. “You have to go.”

“You're not making sense.” She shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“What?” 

“If he's not as strong as he's supposed to be when meeting me, then my chances of defeating him and ending this madness once and for all are great.”

“Sugar...” I said. She knew exactly that I did not want the Batter to be defeated and she also knew why. I did not believe that she was being serious. She was my friend and she would not do something as cruel astaking the life of my loved one to me. She would not tear someone out of my life, not someone I needed. 

“Zacharie.” She mimicked my tone again. “What has he ever even done for you? Look at you! I've seen you for two minutes and even I can tell that you're a wreck. He has been hurting you. And if I now coincidentally get the chance to erase someone as poisonous as him from your life, I will gladly do that. Now leave me be. I'm gonna handle this.”

“Sugar, please, I beg you. I am begging you not to do this. Even if I did not love him I would not want you to be here and kill him. Go. Please. Please just go and do what you're supposed to do. This is not scripted to happen. The script says you have to go and the script will punish you for being here eventually. And if not, then the consequences of you being here will.” I took her hand and simply held it. “Please.”

She looked at my hands around hers and then at me. “And how are you being any better than me at following that script?”

“What do you mean? The Player has not seen me, yet, except for when they are supposed to see me. Nothing wrong has happened. The script is still in working order. Yes, I have left my spots and I have been punished for it, already, but I did not destroy one thing, so let's keep it that way, shall we? He'll be here soon, we should hurry.”

She laughed. “Come on, Zacharie. You're smarter than believing that. Everything that's happened was never supposed to happen and you know it. You weren't even supposed to have feelings for that arrogant ass. And you were even less supposed to act on them and wander around like this. The whole stuff that happened while the Player was gone was never supposed to happen. If everything is going according to script, then why are you here right now and not on that one spot, waiting for the Batter to come around and buy stuff?”

“It's because I have to know why he pretends not to remember anything! Because I really need to know that. And because I need to change that.” I glared at her. “Why can't you understand my feelings for him?”

She shook her head. “No, I understand your feelings completely. But what you said is easy to answer. He's following the course of the script and going along with the game. He's doing what you think you are doing. You can't be deep enough in denial not to realize that you are being so far off the script it hurts.”

“It... It does actually literally hurt.” I muttered, barely audible. She must have heard it, though.

“See? You know. This situation is already very off-script. It doesn't even matter what happens anymore, we're all off. I am not supposed to be here and out of my basement, but you allowed me to and hey, it worked and I was not magically sent back because the Player returned. Don't you think that's strange? Don't you think that's wrong? You and the Batter are not supposed to love each other. In fact, I don't think that cold fish is supposed to love anything! It's wrong already. You're stalking him, aren't you? Did the script ever say that you would become a full-on masked stalker?” She snickered, but she was serious about what she said.

I sighed. “I suppose not.” 

She patted my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “Hey, it's okay, no reason to be sad. So we're off, what does it matter? I don't feel any higher entity smiting me in rage of my off-ness. I feel better than ever! I feel on top of the world and like I can do anything! Not caring about the script is the best thing that ever happened!”

“But I do care about the script.” I said with a calm and sad voice and looked at her. “I care about it and I think it's important.”

“Oh, please.” She waved her hand at me as if trying to disregard what I said. “If you truly cared about that old stupid script then you wouldn't be here right now, chilling out with me. You would just be doing other merchant things and be boring like you were before.”

“You think I was boring?”

“A little.” She smirked.

I shrugged. “Oh well.” I looked at the floor for a moment, then checked the space behind me only to see that the Batter was still not coming. I looked back at Sugar. “But I really do care about the script. I just thought that as long as the Player doesn't know or notice it doesn't matter to the course of the game. I felt as if it was alright as long as it was secret.”

“Hey it's alright! Don't you see? Nothing's happening, everything is okay and alright and we're all fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's because the Player didn't see you moving around.” She leaned against the wall. “But who cares?”

“I do!” I hissed again. “I care! All this time I have been doing wrong things, I have been off already. You are right. What happened was not, absolutely not, supposed to happen. Ever. What happened were a bunch of mistakes. And I was lucky enough that they weren't noticed and didn't result in the end of the world. This has to stop before anything happens. The Batter is doing the right thing, trying to fix it, trying to go along with it the way we all should. You should go back and I will do the same. It hurts, anyway.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying? I thought we had established that we did stuff that should be bad but apparently isn't because no one got punished!” 

“Maybe all the emotional pain was punishment.” I mumbled to myself. “Sugar, maybe nothing happened so far but things may still happen and the puppeteer will still see us. I didn't notice how badly I was screwing with the powerful script until now. But thanks to you I'm finally not denying it anymore. I have to simply be a merchant again. You and Pablo are right. This behavior is unnatural and it will lead to bad things. Being with the Batter was a sweet dream. I am glad I got to do it for a while and I had a very great time. I have to learn to be satisfied with what I got, because it's more than I expected. More than what was supposed to happen.” I was about to turn around and leave.

“Hold on!” She yelled. “So that's it? One little realization and you're just out of here and going to go back to being the salesman?”

I turned away from her. “That's the plan.” I tried to leave once more.

But her voice stopped again. “Then tell me. How well does that work for the Batter?”

I stopped. I did not answer. I thought about what to say. The Batter was seemingly having a really hard time keeping up the cold and emotionless facade. It also did not appear to be something he was doing with ease or because it was what he really wanted. Quite the opposite. It was hard for him, I believed. Hard for him and in his eyes not the right thing.

“Exactly.” Sugar continued, as if having read my mind. “He doesn't like it. Not one bit. And you know why that is?” She asked me.

“Why is that?” I sighed and questioned.

“That is because of what you did.” She approached me, grabbed my shoulders and spun me around so I was facing her again. “You were not doing things the way you were told you. You were doing things that no one ever thought you'd do. Yes. True. No doubt. But does that make it wrong things?”

“The pain in my stomach would say so.”

“Then the pain in your stomach is lying!” Sugar glanced at my belly, but then looked at my face again. Or rather at my mask, but she knew where to look so it appeared that she was staring firmly into my eyes. “Who ever said that trying to be more and getting things that you think you deserve is a bad thing? If anyone ever said that they should be locked up in that tiny basement. You deserve happiness, Zacharie. You have never ever done anything wrong. Never harmed a person. You deserve happiness and I hate to say it, but maybe the Batter does, too.”

“So what do you want me to do? Screw over the entire script for my own selfish reasons?” I had considered doing that. Multiple times, but I knew that the results would be terrible so I decided otherwise.

“Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do!” For a moment I believed her to be joking. I was going to laugh at what she said, but I saw her stern gaze, her determination and her unusual seriousness. She really wanted me to do that. She really and honestly wanted me to go ahead and do anything I believed was right to do, without thinking twice. She really wanted me to go ahead and get the Batter back. “I want you to take the chance, seize the moment and confront him. Screw the Player, what have they ever done for you?”

“They brought me credits.” I muttered, I was a little intimidated. Sugar could be scary when she was angry.

“That's not what I meant and you know that. We are off already, Zacharie. Pretty far off, I think. You know that better than I. So why don't you just go with it and take your chance and finally do something about your situation?”

“And what, pray tell, could I possibly do that would change my fate? There is nothing I can do to make my situation better. He made the conscious decision to go on with the game, which is still the reasonable and rational thing to do.” I looked down. Everything, every factor of this situation was telling me to quit trying and go back to being a merchant. Just a merchant, that is.

“Talk to him, out loud. Challenge him. Make it serious and interesting.”

“Sugar, I don't think that's a good idea. At all. Once one learns about their mistakes they should actually try to fix them, not make more.” I bit my bottom lip.

“Stop calling it mistakes! It's not mistakes! It's never been mistakes.” She stopped clutching my shoulders and let her hands drop to her sides. “I won't force you.” She said more quietly. “I'd never force you to do anything. See? That's what friends do. Don't make me go back, either. I will do it on my own. But not for the game. Not for your precious poisonous Batter, but for you. I want the choice to be all yours. You have to decide in which direction everything goes now, I'm leaving it up to you.”

“Why?” I was curious. What had changed her mind to going back? And why did she want me to decide? She obviously loved her freedom.

“Because it's you who has to do it now and I will be out of your way, so that if you decide to let the game continue normally it will. You deserve to be able to decide. And you know, the Batter may have saved you. Maybe more than once. I think now it's the other way around. He's trapped in his narrow mind. He's waiting for you to take the role of the savior now. So do it and make sure he abandons that Player forever.”

“Or you will? In the way of murder?” I asked, expecting her to kill him, still, if I did not do anything.

“No. I said I will leave it be and I will. But you do owe me for this. Big time! I'm talking daily pie deliveries and carrying me around everywhere.”She grinned at me and snickered before sticking her tongue out at me.

I smiled sadly at her. “Sure, Sugar. Thanks. I guess.”

“You guess? I'm sacrificing my freedom here, I bet you that you guess 'thanks'.” She looked behind me and I turned around to check. “He'll be coming from there?” She questioned.

I only nodded in response. “Yes. From there.”

“When?” She asked, I believed her to be simply curious because she had no further reason for knowing these things. Not after promising me to keep her murdering hands to herself. 

“I don't know. I hope soon.” I began clutching my stomach absentmindedly. The pain was awful, it burned and pierced and it pressed and strangled me. If I really were to face the Batter I could not be in this much pain. Not only would it hinder my ability to talk to him properly or do whatever it was I was going to do. But the pain was also continuously growing. The further off script we were, the more it hurt and the longer we were off the more it hurt, too. 

“Are you okay?” Sugar looked at me with the deepest concern in her partially hidden eyes. Her bright orbs were peeking out from behind her soft white bangs.

I looked at her again. “I told you about the pain in my stomach, didn't I? If not, then let me tell you now: My stomach hurts.”

“Oh, I thought you were speaking metaphorically!” She grinned.

“What kind of metaphor is stomach pain supposed to be?” I asked in confusion. I gritted my teeth. “Anyway, no, it's real pain.”

“Did you eat too much pie?”

I shook my head. “Do you think I've had the time to even think about eating anything?”

She shrugged.

“No. This pain originates from me being doing things that I'm not supposed to do. It's the script punishing me for not being where I belong.” I hissed under my breath, it hurt terribly, I had to go back and get rid of it. 

“That's ridiculous!” Sugar laughed and I looked at her with surprise. I had no idea why she would call this ridiculous and laugh like that. The pain was nothing to laugh at. It was very serious and it was mind wrecking.

“What?” I blurted out. “How is this ridiculous? I'm suffering and you're laughing at it!” I glared at her. 

She calmed down slowly. “Well, it's ridiculous, because it makes zero sense!” She grinned at me. “Come on, you can tell me. Why is it hurting? What did you do?” She snickered. “Did you do naughty things?”

I looked at her in confusion and raised an eyebrow at her. “How the hell would this come from anything naughty? I just- Whatever. No, I am being honest and I am telling you. I get this pain as soon as I leave my spot and it gets worse over time and I think it's worse if I'm seriously messing with the script in the ways of lurking somewhere and talking to the Batter while he's being directed by the puppeteer. How does that not make sense?” My facial expression went back to being filled with pain instead of confusion and doubt. 

“Well, then, let me clear it up for you, my little adorable Zacharie.” She grinned and patted my head as if I was her dog.

“Don't call me that.” I muttered.

She only snickered some more. “See, if that pain that you're feeling comes from doing things that you call wrong, things that are, as you say, not supposed to happen, then why the hell am I not feeling a thing? That almighty script or however you think of it surely did not want me standing around in this hallway here.”

“That's because you have nowhere to be right now! I should be at my spot in case the Player wants more items.” It was a perfectly good explanation, was it not?

“So what if the Player makes the Batter go here? It does not matter that I'm here? And besides, the Player is not able to see you right now, they don't know whether you're there or not. If they knew about my location they wouldn't know whether I was there or not right now, either! Because they don't see it. We are practically in the same situation here, so it doesn't make sense for you to be in pain and for me not to feel a thing. And the script has no way of punishing you, Zacharie. The script is not an entity, like you think.” She patted my head some more until I grabbed her wrist and moved it away from my head.

“Okay then, Ms. Knows-it-all. What is the script and where is the pain coming from?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Sugar had no idea of anything, how could she possibly say that the script had no powers?

“I don't know for sure what the script is, but I think it's more like an unwritten book. Some book-like thing and it's contents is what tells everything how to happen. Subtly, though. And a book can't hurt you. Unless someone throws it at you and I don't see anyone tossing books around! And as to where the pain is coming from...” She leaned closer to me and patted my head once again. “I think the source is located here.”

“My head?” I asked, just to make sure I got right what she was trying to explain.

“Yup!” She leaned back and took her hand off of my head. “I think the pain is... what do you call it...? Psychological? Because, you know, you've been all up on your on back, making yourself think about mistakes and being off-script and you made yourself worry and you feel pain, because you think that it's the right thing at this moment to feel pain. You think you're in pain, because you believe you should be, because you think what's happening is not right and should be punished or will be punished.”

I looked at her with wide eyes and surprise.”So what you are saying is that I am in pain because I believe in the pain and because I think I am in pain?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

I looked down at my stomach. It still hurt, even with this possible revelation. “But then why doesn't it leave now that I know?”

“Because you know this but you still believe that what you are doing here is wrong.” She got a hold of my shoulders again and I wanted to tell her to give me personal space for once, but I guessed that she was only trying to help so I let her. “Try this.” She started. “Take a deep, deep breath and close your eyes and tell yourself that the pain is not real and that it's good that you are here. Tell yourself that your bestest of best friends is right and you should stop worrying. It's okay that you are here, everything you did is okay. And you will be fine.” 

I looked at her silently for a moment, before doing what she told me to. I closed my eyes and breathed calmly and I told myself that everything was going to be okay. That I was actually supposed to be doing this. I tried to make myself believe in free will and in the possibility that I could create my own fate and change it without bringing terrible consequences to myself and everyone else. The pain I still felt was very distracting, but over time it vanished. It worked. I looked at Sugar. “It... It's actually gone.” I stared at her. “It's gone!” I hugged her. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey no probs, my friend. Whenever you need someone to kick you into realizing the truth I'll be there.” She chuckled and after a good long platonic hug we let go off one another.

“I should have given you more credit from the start. I'm sorry.”

“Chill, Zacharie. You just defeated one of your biggest inner demons, don't create a new one out of guilt that you shouldn't even feel, because you, my friend, did nothing wrong.” She smiled happily at me and I nodded. “For the future: Never get yourself down, amigo. Mistakes that you made may not even be mistakes and you are focusing on them. Focus on the good things, those are far more valuable and important, anyway. You have to stop pushing yourself down and believe in what you can do and believe in the future. You're doing the right thing if you enjoy what you're doing. If you like being with the Batter, it's automatically the right thing. Screw that stupid Player.” She gave me a thumbs-up, to emphasize the meaning of her words.

I felt like freedom had made Sugar wiser. I smiled and nodded. “That's very nice and smart of you to say, thank you.”

“Hey no problem. If you ever need me I'll be there for you, don't forget that, 'kay? Just say the word and I'll help.” She grinned and turned into the direction in which the Batter was not in. “I'm gonna take off now, back to my cozy, bright basement. Maybe I can get Pablo to lock up. If not then I'll just patiently sit there.” 

“Okay. Thanks a bunch again, Sugar. I promise, I'll make it up to you somehow.” I said with a cheerful voice.

“I know you will. Now go save your boy, hero.” She shouted and ran away.

I looked after her until she vanished from my sight. 

I turned into the direction the Batter was in.

“Okay then.” I muttered to myself. “Sugar is right. Let's do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I proofread out loud, I think my tongue is numb :'D
> 
> Comment, please, you precious human beings and cats.


	18. Fragment 3, Part 6: Off

I did not have to wait much longer until the Batter stepped into my sight. I had not prepared any messages, had not prepared anything that I would say and in general had not planned at all how this confrontation would happen. Who would say something, would we fight? What would I do if he kept walking. I had no idea and yet I felt like I could do nothing better than doing this at that very moment. 

I saw him and he saw me. He was shocked to see me. I could tell with just a mere glance to his eyes that he was shocked and surprised and maybe even a little worried about the immediate future. I knew the Player was watching, but I finally stopped caring.

“Batter!” I said loudly and with confidence and certainty of myself.

“Zacharie.” I heard him say my name quietly, barely a whisper. “I told you to leave.” He muttered.

“Yes, you did and I didn't!” I grinned behind my mask. “And there's a perfectly good reason for it, too.”

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “What reason might you possibly have that explains this foolish behavior?” I could see his distress as he feared the possibilities of what might happen next. 

“The reason is that you lied to me and I think I finally know why.”

“I never lied.” He kept up his indifferent expression, his emotionless face. I considered it amusing then, that whenever he denied his lies he was lying more. He was deep in his pool of untruth.

“Oh, yes you did and you know you did.” I nodded my head to put emphasis on my knowledge about his lies. “You said that you didn't remember the past few days. You called me delusional and pretended not to care, anymore.” I thought about how confused the Player probably was that very moment. They must have been not only confused, but also startled as to what was going on. It must have been obvious that this was not normal, not supposed to happen. Then again I had no idea how naive that puppeteer was.

“I was being absolutely honest. I believe that you are making up false stories and that you are slowly becoming insane. I do not understand why, but I do not care. Now get out of my way, I have to continue.” He looked at me with a stern gaze and I could tell that he really wanted me to leave, that he was threatening me. But I also knew that I was right and that I would regret leaving that place more than I had ever regretted anything before.

“Tsk.” I said, showing my disregard for his lies and how much I doubted what he said. “You're a terrible liar. Especially when one has figured you out like I have. Don't try to tell me you don't remember our conversations, our nights together. You do remember them. You remember every last moment of them. I can tell. Your behavior has been strange all day. You have been acting overly cold towards me and yet I noticed that strange blush.”

The Batter shook his head. “You must be seeing things. Now let me proceed.”

“I won't let you do anything, anymore. Deep down you know that the right thing to do is what seems like the wrong thing. Cut those strings, Batter. You know you want to be free and be with me. You know that you can feel and you know that you have learned to feel different about purifying.” I reached out to him. “Be with me. You know you can if you want to.”

“Zacharie. Stop. Stop and go away.”

“I won't stop. I won't stop feeling the way I do and neither will you and you know it. Just think about everything that has happened. I know you remember, stop with the charade. Just call the memories one after the other into your head and think about them. Think about how they made you feel, what they made you wanna do and what you actually did because of them.” I smiled and looked at him, hoping for him to do what I asked him to do and hoping that he would actually change his mind in the end. And I hoped that he would then reach out and take my extended hand and walk away with me, no matter what the Player wanted.

He just stared at me, I believed that I had more than just caught his attention, but there was no change in his attitude, yet.

“Don't make me list everything that has happened to you. To us. You know that I will do it. You know that I will remind you of everything that you did and everything that I did. Every word that was spoken, every touch that was felt, I remember it all and if you want me to I will recite all of our conversations. From every hurtful word you spoke down to those words that made my mind explode with joy. The choice to be with whom you want to be is yours, not the Player's, not anyone else's. And I won't force you to make the choice in my favor. I won't force you to do anything. But I know what you want and you know it, too. And you also know that I know.” A few minutes ago someone would have been forced to tell me all those things, instead of him.

“Merchant.” He looked at me, into my eyes. I still hated him calling me that. “Even if I had any idea what you were talking about, I would not change my path. I am doing what is right and doing what will bring me victory. I ask you to leave now so that I can continue with my holy quest. I chose to let the puppeteer guide me and I will not change that decision. For no reason. No matter what I wish for or feel. This is my duty, my quest and it will not be disturbed by anything.”

“But you're letting it be disturbed, you know. Right now in this very moment you don't want to oppose what I'm saying. You wanna take my hand, leave the Player behind and be with me the way you are not supposed to be with me.” I shrugged and pulled my hand back. “The Player left you behind. Left you behind for so very long. There is no reason that you should still be a loyal puppet to them. Loyalty is not a one-sided deal. Loyalty has to be agreed upon and come from both sides. You know this. Don't betray this belief.” 

He did not respond, he only stared at me. I knew that he still wanted me to step aside. It appeared that I could not change his mind, no matter how hard I tried. But giving up was not an option, anymore. It stopped being possible the moment I stepped out in the open and decided to confront him like this. I was past the point of no return. 

I sighed, unhappy with his silence. “It's your choice. And if you choose violence and purifying over your emotions and wishes, then I'm sorry, but I won't let you be. You will have to purify me.”

“Do not speak such nonsense.” The Batter commanded. But I did not care anymore.

“I'm serious.” I pulled my sword out of my backpack and then proceeded to throw the backpack to the side. I allowed a pair of feathery wings unfold behind my back. The blade of my sword was sharp and glowing and my body was in a fighting stance. “You choose violence and purifying. In that case you choose to make me your adversary.” I raised my blade at him, my holy blade. “Kill me if you wish to continue.”

I saw resistance in the Batter's eyes. He had no will, whatsoever, to fight me. He wanted to stay on his spot or walk around me or tell me to cut it out. But I saw him feel the Player tug at his strings and tugging them into a fight. His Add-Ons rose behind him, ready to beat me up and I held my weapon more tightly. 

It felt like the Batter was the first one to do anything, but the first blow came from my side. I run towards the purifier and swung my sword at him. He dodged as I expected. I had no intention to kill him. Of course not. But I also had no intention of continuing my existence the way it had been going. Alpha charged at me and I held out my sword, cutting the Add-On in half. It proceeded to heal incredibly quickly, but I knew I had done a lot of damage.

“I do not wish to fight you.” The Batter explained as he finally held up his bat and swung at me. I dodged it easily. “Please give up.” He requested. Another Add-On charged at me and I blocked its attack with my blade. 

“Why?” I asked as I ran at him once again, holding my sword as if I intended to cut him, forcing him to step back and then giving him a firm kick onto his torso, making him stumble. I was planning on continuing dominating the battle like that, but his Add-Ons shoved me away from their master and I took one of their blows and dodged a few others. “Are you that confident that you are going to win? Who said that it will be you who will remain victorious?” I had about enough of his superior and arrogant attitude. Teaching him a lesson in the form of a good beating was probably going to change this attitude at least a little bit. 

The Batter raised his bat again and ran into my direction. I used my wings to give me an extra push to dodge his attack in the last second. “Well.” He said, eying me and trying to hit me again. I blocked his bat with my sword and forced him away from me. Something I thought I would never want to do. Forcing him away. “While you appear to be more powerful while using your weapon, I have battled you before and examined your style of fighting. You are not quite as good as me.” I wanted to spit in his face when hearing that. How much pride and arrogance did this person have in his body?

“You're right.” I said and cut another one of his Add-Ons in half, doing presumably the same amount of damage I did to Alpha. “We have fought before. But you're not the only one who can observe things. I have watched you fight more times than you can count and now that I finally have my sword in my hand you are not that hard to handle, anymore. I thought it would be harder, to be honest.” I grinned. 

Apparently my comment did not only make him extremely mad, but it also encouraged him to fight harder. He swung at me in a fit of madness and fury. “You are weak.” He said and tried to hit my back with his bat. The plan was foiled by my wings shoving him out of the way. “You are a merchant. You are not meant to fight.” He said it as if we had not discussed the matter of purpose and ability a million times before.

“I thought we have been over this. And I think I recall you telling me that I'm not just the merchant.” I cut Alpha again, causing it to go down. I was certain that the Batter still had a bunch of Jokers on him so it was probably not the last time I would see the Add-On. The remaining party that was against me charged again after the Batter used a Fortune Ticket on himself. I took their combined blow as I saw no way to dodge it. That had been unexpected. I got up quickly and healed myself with a Fortune Ticket, as well. “I can be the hero.” I said.

“The hero?” The Batter asked as he commanded his Add-On to hit me again. “You are no hero, Zacharie. You are a fool who challenged me.”

I blocked the attack with my arm and forced the Add-On away from my body. “I think you don't know what the word hero means.” I said and charged at him. In response he charged at me, as well. Our weapons clashed and we each pushed tightly against the other's weapon using our own. “A hero is someone who fights for their believes and motives.” I pulled my sword away and kicked him again. “Someone who takes a goddamn risk to achieve something.”

The Batter held his kicked stomach and panted and since I really did not want to kill him I patiently waited and dodged his Add-On's attacks. “You are hindering the course of this game. How can that be a heroic act?” He questioned as he clutched his gut some more and held onto his bat tightly. 

“By the definition I just explained to you.” I held my sword ready to act in case he was going to try attacking me with a surprise move. “Just because it's going against the usual course of the game doesn't mean it's wrong. I finally realized that. I've been wrong about it all along. You should know it, too. Know it and act on it and abandon the Player. Or at least just admit to me that you remember.”

The Batter stood up and looked at me. He charged at me and I got ready to dodge him once again. He swung at my head, but I ducked ant he hit the wall. “Fine.” He said and I escaped from him, putting a few feet of distance in between us. “I remember.” He sighed. “I remember every second of it.”

“Then why are you obeying this damned puppeteer, still? I thought you felt betrayed by them. And I thought that you had finally abandoned that habit of violently purifying everything.” I dodged his Add-On. “Just cease this fighting and do what you wish to do.”

“I can't.”

“And why the hell not? Because you do not really care about me, after all? Because you simply kept lying and lying no matter how often I told you that it hurt me?” I glared at him. I hoped that he had not lied to me about my importance to him. If that was how it was then I did not know what I was supposed to do, at all. If that was the case then I would have to accept it and leave which is something I promised myself I would not do anymore.

“No. No, Zacharie, I was honest about what I said about you and about me and all the things you recall and rely on. But I have no choice. This quest is holy, it must be done. Ever since the Player returned, I have been thinking this way. And it is a good way to think. The quest has to be done. And I have to be loyal to the Player, it is my duty.” He explained as he tried to beat me again and I took the hit as I was dumbfounded by his explanation.

“That isn't you talking!” I yelled at him, trying to convey the message. “That is your strings and your connection to the Player talking! You had changed your mind, you would not say things like that anymore. I'm sure of it. Don't you get it? The Player's return caused the game to mess with our heads! I didn't even remember anything about their absence when I woke up today. You are forced to think that way so you won't do anything bad. Remove those strings. You can do it.”

“I do not want to do it.” I blocked his next blow. “I have never wanted to do it. I live for this and you should let me if it is what I desire.”

“No, you are only forced to think that. If you'd only stop giving in to the game's will this easily then maybe you would see what's really going on here.” He dodged my sword a couple of times and I blocked and took a few of his blows with his bat before using a Fortune Ticket to heal all the bruises and broken bones he had caused me in only a few seconds. 

“You are being stupid, Zacharie. You believe this sort of thing, because it is what you desire and choose to believe. Because it eases your mind. I believe that you refuse to accept the truth, because you think that it would be painful for you to realize that I have my priorities set straight, unlike you.”

“Ugh, you sound just like the Judge.” I groaned. It appeared that there were only two sides on the matter of the game and right and wrong. The one saying that whatever the game wants or does is right and everything else is a mistake and the other side that says free will is all that matters, if the game appears to do terrible things it is alright to go another way.

“The quest is what is important. Nothing else.” The Batter charged at me. “No emotions, no ideals, no feelings shall get in the way of my destiny.” He swung his bat into my torso and I could not block or dodge it, I took the whole blow. “And certainly not a meddling merchant who has strange wishes and unrealistic dreams.” 

It hurt. Not only the terrible pain in my body from being hit by his bat with all the force he could muster, but also the words that he spoke, spat at me like dirt. But unlike the blow from the bat, his words were nothing I had a defense mechanism or dodging method against. His words were something that once heard would do all the damage they pleased. I fell to my knees and my weapon fell onto the floor with a loud clattering noise. I had found no way of defending against the blow and now it was showing its terrible consequences. I fell onto the floor and my back hit the surface as I continued to clutch my gut and continued trying to calm down. I had trouble breathing due to his most recent attack and I lay on my back, trying to gasp for air. I looked up at him. 

He was standing above me in all his terrible glory. I hoped for him to spare me, after all. But I knew that those hopes were nothing I should believe in. I had taken my chance, taken the risk and I had to pay for it. I observed the Batter as he kicked away my holy sword so that I could not get a hold of it anymore. I was panting and gasping and making short rapid breaths. He then put a foot down on my chest and pushed me further to the ground. “You should not have challenged me, Zacharie.” He pushed more and I groaned in pain. “I told you to leave but you would not listen. I tried to make you leave but you refused. I do not want to do this and you know that I do not want to do this, but I cannot let your meddlesome antics get in my way any longer.”

I stared up at him and I heard my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I felt nothing, everything was numb and I focused on his bat. It seemed so unholy and impure now that I got to take a closer look, a look from this perspective. He was so impure and corrupt and so was his weapon and his mind. I wanted to look away and close my eyes so I would not see that bat come down on me and bash my head in. But I could not, I could not look away at those final minutes. I wondered where I had gone wrong, what mistakes I had made. I thought about how it could end like this.

I thought about Pablo and how he would be disappointed in me despite his prediction. I thought about Sugar and the way her smile would turn into a frown and the way that she would die after me. I wished nothing more than for everything to be okay. I wished that everything would have never happened. I wanted to press the reset button and forget feelings, memories and hopes and make everyone else forget them, too. 

Everything could have been, so perfect. All I wanted was to make the world a little warmer, but now it felt frozen.

And now I am here. Remembering everything that has happened, as if my mind knew I was going to die. I am here now, wishing for a better world as I am laying underneath the person that I fell for. And the person that made me fall in battle. Every second feels endless. Every moment is infinity. And I lay here. And I think to myself that I cannot let it end like this. I cannot be defeated. I will not die beaten by the Batter. I refuse to die beaten by his bat.

And then as if out of nowhere I can feel strength grow and rise in my body. My life is trying to defend itself. My faith and beliefs are finally showing their effect. My motivation and eagerness show that it is worth to fight for them. I feel like I can do anything, I feel like I still have a chance if I keep fighting. Giving up has never done me any good, after all. And I grab his ankle with all my remaining power and force it off me. And I give myself a push with my wings and dodge his blow in this moment that seems like time is standing still for me. He stares at me and I glare back. “Didn't I tell you?” I ask. “You are no challenge for me, anymore.”

“Zacharie, just quit it, you are hurt.” He says and I can feel my wounds scream at me to rest, but I will not. I cannot. Not until I'm finished.

I pick my sword up. “I've been to heaven and to hell, Batter. And I will go again to win this battle and win this war.”

I hold my sword with the tightest grip I can muster. And I charge at him one last time and I jump and he swings his bat once more, bashing in my wings, disfiguring them and making them useless. And it hurts so much, so terribly much. And I swing my sword and he thinks I am aiming for his head and he tries to dodge so that I will not slice his skull. But my intention is different from what he thinks. I do not want to kill him, I do not want to harm him. As I move my sword through seeming air, I am freeing him from his mental prison, I am giving him the gift of free will and power.

I am cutting his strings **off.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at him go.
> 
> Comments, please~!


	19. After the end: Forgive and Forget

All I can hear is my heart beating loudly and my loud and rapid breathing tearing at my lungs thanks to the exhaustion. I stare at the ground, I clutch my shirt with one hand and try to force out a groan, because it still hurts. I am tired and hurt and I want to be done with everything. I finally fall to my knees.

The silence behind me, the lack of response to the cut, it is suddenly terrifying. I can feel beads of sweat roll down my forehead and the heat that builds up behind my mask. My grasp on my shirt tightens some more and I grit my teeth. 

Everything is becoming hazy and blurry. I can feel myself slipping away from consciousness. I feel someone grabbing my arms and then everything turns black.

 

I blink. I do it once, twice, a few more times. My eyes adjust to the dim light and I manage to look around without moving. I do not know where I am or what happened. I have no idea why I am here or how I got here. Did I have a bad dream?

Then suddenly pain shoots through my back and torso and I remember. The last few memories that were missing from the moments just before I lost my consciousness. Not only the pain, but especially the memories make me gasp. I look around frantically.

Where is he? Where did he go? What happened?

I am alone. All alone. I do not see anyone around. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the punishment for doing what I did. Maybe this is what happens when you ruin the game and destroy the script. I do not know. It might be. I have never heard of anything like the past few weeks happening and I did not expect it to be possible at all. 

I push myself to sit up despite the pain. A transparent bag falls from my body. I did not notice its presence until it fell. It seems like it used to be frozen meat cubes, but they melted so now it is only the slightly cold meat. It was probably on one of the wounds the Batter caused me to cool it and and numb the pain so I could rest. Someone must be there, after all, to do this. But if there is someone then why did they not simply use a Fortune Ticket, it would have done the trick so much more quickly. 

I do not see my backpack around. What I do see, however, is my mask lying a few feet away from me and I suddenly feel my makeshift bed underneath me. I did not notice it before. I stare at the mask for a mere second before reaching out and putting it on. A Luck Ticket is beside it. Not as good as a Fortune Ticket, but it will do something for me. After healing myself at least a little I get up. The door to this strange room I woke up in is closed, but not locked so I open it. 

Behind it I see the one person that it mattered for me to see. “Batter.” I said. My throat was sore and my voice weak and quiet. 

He looked up at me and I noticed that his cap was beside him, as was his white shirt leaving his torso in the black-long sleeved shirt he always wears underneath. His eyes are bloodshot and I can tell that he cried. “Zacharie.” He gasps out and gets up from his spot on the floor. “Zacharie.” He says again and wraps my name into his sweet voice and his voice is soft and comforting and it is a rainbow of emotion. He walks over to me and practically falls into me to wrap his arms around me. 

I am confused, yet pleased and hug him back. “What happened to you? Why are you crying? What's wrong?” My voice is still so silent and weak, I wish it was stronger and I wish I sounded more like myself.

“So much.” He lets go off me and only holds my shoulders and he looks down at my hidden face. “So very much. And I am so truly, so deeply sorry for every minute of it.” I look at him and I think I understand what he means so I nod reassuringly. 

“It's alright. You had no power over what you were doing. It was all wrong. It's okay now.” I smile, hoping to convey my comfort with my words.

“No it is not alright. Look what I did to you! I harmed you, I hurt you. I said awful things to you, so many of them and you did not, in any way deserve to hear such words from someone like me. And I beat you with my bat. I would have murdered you. I was trying to murder you. One more movement and you would be dead. And your body... Your wings, your strange wings they were so terribly wounded and then disappeared.” I could hear terror and guilt in his voice.

“Yeah, they shouldn't be visible.” I glance to my back to confirm that they indeed appear as not present. “Calm down, Batter. I know that it wasn't your fault. And it took a lot of me to believe in it, but I know that you would never hurt me. You are not a mindless killing machine. At least not, anymore. So please just don't worry about it, anymore. It's forgotten. In the past. How long was I out, anyway?” I hesitated. “What about the Player?” I glance at the space above him, wondering about his strings. Had I cut them properly? Had I cut them at all?

“You were unconscious for three days. I was worried, terribly worried that just a fight would do that to you.” He looks up and then at me again. “I do not feel their presence any longer. Not after you cut me off. So far nothing terrible and world shattering has happened and it appears that at least for some time, it will stay this way. Thank you, Zacharie. Thank you for freeing me.” He hugs me again. “You risked so much. I was wrong, you really do deserve to be called a hero. Disregard anything I said while in that mad state of mind, please.”

I nod with a grin. “Done.” I take another look around. I cannot do anything, but agree with him. Everything appears to be normal, nothing, except for the Batter seems changed. That is good. Pablo was wrong after all. Doom and demise do not follow my choices. “... So, it's over now?” 

The Batter smiles down at me, genuinely smiles down at me and my heart flutters. He nods and presses a tender kiss onto my forehead after shoving the mask down just far enough. He then leans back. He looks at me for a few seconds and pulls the mask off entirely and gives me a strong, passionate and warm kiss. And I have never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a very short conclusion.
> 
> Comment, if you like~! 
> 
> Check the chapter number, one more to go!


	20. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Golden Years**

 

“How is this?”

“Hold your arms up higher.”

“Like this?”

“No, you are doing it incorrectly. Observe me and do as I do.”

Baseball is tough. It looks easy, but in reality it is difficult. And no matter how often they throw the ball at me I will never be able to hit it. Apparently, I am not even holding the bat correctly. 

“Batter, this is stupid, it'll never work. Let me just pitch.” I look up at the man beside me. He has been trying to teach me to play proper baseball for a while now. And although he claims that he can see improvement in my swing, it still feels weird, awkward and off to me. I suppose there is nothing I can do about it, after all.

“No. A proper player must be able to pitch, catch and bat. And while your pitching and catching are somewhere in between mediocre and acceptable, your swing is still awful.” He does not mince matters. The Batter is holding his bat very tightly as he presents the proper swing to me once more and looks at me, expecting me to copy it. And then he watches me fail.

“I'm gonna take a break.” I say and he nods and I peck his lips before leaving and going to the side to sit beside the Judge, who is observing our practice. 

It has been some time now since the huge Player-absence-incident. So far we have not suffered from any sort of punishment a higher entity might give us for disobedience to the rules. It is a large relief. In the first few weeks after the incident, almost everyone, even a lot of Elsen for no reason, was shaky and nervous. We all glanced up to the sky every now and then as if expecting a lightning bolt to come out of nowhere and strike us. Panic was in the air and we were all prepared to attempt running for our lives the moment something appeared as a threat. 

Luckily, this fear of punishment had an expiration date which was reached once we realized that absolutely nothing was happening and we had worried all that time for nothing. I think the Batter had the hardest time staying sane as I would find him sitting in a corner, his eyes closed tightly and a soft whimper coming from his lips. I would hug him and kiss him and be there with him until everything was alright. Looking back on it, it may not have been the fear of punishment, but also the guilt that he felt. He blamed himself for all the heartbreak and bad things that had happened and no matter how often I told him not to be sorry, no matter how often I told him not to apologize anymore, it was only time that eventually did the trick. 

“Tired?” I look at Pablo, who asked, and nod and lie down flat on the floor.

“Very much so. I don't know what possessed him, but suddenly all he wants to do is play baseball and get me to be good at it, although that is obviously never going to happen.” I sigh.

“You do have an eternity to learn.” I hear the cat chuckle. “And this still appears to be a far more productive use of his time and strength than what he did before. You should be glad, Zacharie.”

I smile. I am glad.

Pablo was terribly skeptical after the Player was gone. It is likely that he was one of the causes for the fear that controlled everyone, seeing as he said that something was not right, that something would happen, that actions like the ones I made could not go unnoticed. It took very long to realize that everything was alright and that nothing would come after everyone and destroy the world. I think that he still sometimes believes in an approaching doomsday due to my actions, but at least he does not try to talk me out of anything, anymore. He said once that he does not enjoy fighting and that all the does is trying to give proper advice. But if the advice is rejected he will just be silent, because fighting like we did shortly before I cut the strings, is aggravating and exhausting to him. When he said that I only nodded in response.

The cat is more relaxed these days. He often says that it appears as if most things do not matter so there is nothing that he feels forced to do anymore. While this feeling of force is gone, apparently, he still takes kindly to going around through the Zones, checking on things and making sure everything is alright and in working order. If something is not, then he usually reports it to me for reasons I have not figured out, yet. Maybe he still does not quite trust the Batter with valuable information, although said man and me told Pablo multiple times that there is nothing to worry about. The Judge is good at what he does, no doubt. When something seems wrong, even just slightly he will immediately point it out and try to get rid of the error in order to provide safety for everyone. Of course, this leads to him mistaking strange things for bad things a lot.

“Okay, Batter. I'm gonna throw you one you'll never forget!”

“Bring it on, I will not hesitate to hit each and every single one you toss.”

“If you can, obviously!” The girl screamed, laughed and pitched a fast ball.

Sugar has not changed much. Or at all. I do not think that she could change even if she tried. She is just Sugar. In the apocalypse-like atmosphere, Sugar was probably the only one to prance around with a huge smile plastered all over her face. I had gone to retrieve her from the basement immediately after talking to the newly free Batter. After explaining thoroughly and with 'juicy details' to her what I had done and how it panned out, she was in even higher spirits than usual and hugged me and nearly crushed me with her arms in what was supposed to be a sweet embrace. She called everyone stupid for believing that anything bad would happen and it appears that she was right to call us that. She was happy to see everyone come to their senses and provided me with comfort, advice and rude comments when I was in need of talking to someone. After all, she has always been a terrific friend. One just has to deal with her flaws, but that is how friendship works, is it not?

Although Sugar's attitude and personality did not change much, she did manage to get a new trait. A very useful one, even. She learned to take responsibility. Sugar is now in charge of a large group of Elsen, so responsibility is a thing that she can use very well. She does something incredible and something that Pablo and I warned her a lot of times was not a good idea. With her Elsen following her like baby ducks following their mother, she goes to the corrupt and lost parts of the world and tries to recover them.  
While she still states impossible and silly ideas for what she wants to do with the recovered places, she shows courage and ambition with what she is doing and I think that she is using her time doing good. Although one or another Elsen dies during her missions every once in a while, it appears more of them come back or are replaced out of nowhere and Sugar makes sure that every single lost Elsen is mourned properly. That was Pablo's request, though. On the matter of dying, we still do not know whether it can happen to us or what would happen if we did, but no one wants to try it out, and it would frighten me if it was any other way. Beside her rescue missions, for which she pays Elsen with sugar, by the way, the girl has taken a huge liking to baseball. And she is surprisingly good at it. At least she is far better than me and she does not forget to remind me of that every single time we try to play.

“Sucre appears to be in high spirits today.” The Judge comments as he eyes her tossing the ball. 

“She is almost always in high spirits, I think.” I smile behind my mask.

“That is true, especially when she believes to have found a new type of pitching that will not allow the Batter to hit the ball properly.”

“But he does every time.” I sit up and look at my companion. “He's really good at what he does. And he's extremely athletic, so that's a bonus, too.”

Batter hits the ball with excellent force, sending it flying far off into the distance.

“I'm not gonna get that.” Sugar crosses her arms. 

The Batter had huge problems dealing with the final absence of the Player. At first it was because he was afraid of the consequences, like the Judge, but then it was also because he felt useless and empty for quite some time. He claimed multiple times that with the Player gone forever his purpose was lost and he had no further reason to exist. He finally stopped believing that after I had presented some other things to him that he could spend his time doing. One of them was the idea of regularly playing baseball, even. Batter had to learn to think more on his own and be his own puppeteer and although I had seen him perfectly capable of doing things on his own before, back then he seemed more lost than ever before. I caught him trying to kill spectres and purify places after the incident more than once. At first I said nothing, because I thought he had to get over it and deal with his situation, but after a while I told him that there was no way he could do it for the rest of forever, if that happens to be as long as we have. He stopped trying so hard to purify then and treated it more as an occasional sport, I did not mind it being that, as long as he had his desire to purify under control and avoided getting seriously hurt. All in all it took Batter a long time and a long way to finally be okay and to finally deal with his situation and I helped him every step along the way, happy to be there.

Nowadays Batter does plenty of things. He tries to learn new skills and do different things and generally just broadens his possibilities. Something that we had never talked about before the incident was the fact that he has a wife and kid. He dealt with this, too, in a non-violent manner (somehow it appears important to say that) and he actually goes to see Hugo sometimes. I visit the child a lot after all and I have done it for a long time so whenever I go now he tags along. Batter and Sugar still have differences and sometimes they will yell at each other about something fairly unimportant. But they manage to get along most of the time, especially since Sugar has discovered her interest in baseball, which they share.  
My relationship with him only got better. I dare talking about him as my 'boyfriend' even and that word makes me feel mushy and warm and happy, but partially even too flustered to continue talking. I feel like everything between us is far more mutual now than it used to be. He is the one to start any sort of physical contact between us a lot, for example when he pulls me close to him to cuddle at night in our joined beds. 

“Zacharie, go get the ball!” Sugar screams at me.

“No way, there's a chance it's not even retrievable.” I shake my head. “Just get a new one instead.” 

And as for me things are great right now. I am happy most of the time and glad to see that everything is alright. My wings are still damaged from the assault the Batter made on them as I cut his strings, but I do not care too much, it is a small price I had to pay. And while I do not believe that anyone or anything is punishing me or any of the others for acting the way we did during and because of the incident, I cannot say that it did not have negative consequences. Every day when I wake up, sticky notes and a journal help me remember things about my life. Every day I forget something else and I feel like the pieces of memory I am missing are getting bigger and bigger, too. I have not spoken about this to anyone. I have not even mentioned it to my boyfriend. I keep wondering whether Pablo or someone else might be suffering from the same thing, but if they are they have not said a word about it, either. Although I manage not to seem worried in front of others, I occasionally wake up at night, because of the concerns for the future. Sure, after everything. I am happy and grateful for every moment I get to enjoy of this peaceful existence, but what lies ahead might be terrifying. I know that some day I will forget everything. I will become mentally unstable and I will not be able to remember anything, anymore. I dread that day already, but until then I live to the fullest.

“Oh, let's just quit, I have to go pay the Elsen, anyway. I don't wanna have a mass burning.” She chuckles at the memory of when it happened the last time and abandons her spot. She waves at me and I wave in return as she leaves the makeshift field. 

I look at my compa- … my boyfriend and he approaches me after making an audible sigh. Without a word he takes my hand and pulls me up. His hand remains around mine and he smiles at me and I think I am melting a little on the inside. 

“Any plans?” I question.

He shrugs. “Maybe just a quiet walk.”

I look at Pablo. “Wanna come with?”

The cat makes an expression that conveys the message of refusal. “I would prefer not to. I have my own business to attend to, anyway.” He takes off.

So the Batter and I take a walk alone, hand in hand, as I think about everything.

What happened, the incident and everything before and after changed the course of everything and while it may still end in chaos and mayhem someday (although I have doubt it will be all that terrible), I learned from it.

One must fight for what they believe in, no matter how many obstacles are on the way. Fighting for one's beliefs can be tiring, exhausting, it can be heartbreaking. No, it's not easy, but it's worth it. Sometimes all the signs and everybody will say that what you are doing is wrong and that you have to stop, but you have to make your own choices and be selfish sometimes. Be more than they say you can be, think bigger, dream bigger and believe in yourself. 

You are your own hero.

I did not know whether it would work out. I had doubts that I would have this happy end-like life. But I plan on cherishing every blissful second of it until it ends, no matter whether that is tomorrow or in hundred years.

And I learned something else.

Love must be found, love must flourish, love must prevail.

I fought for love, maybe someone else out there is fighting for other things. And if they are then they should know that achieving it is not impossible. It never was and it never will be.

No matter how hard it seems, there is always a way to find happiness, it is possible for you, even in this cold cruel world, to find

Warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it!
> 
> At first I had a quite different ending planned involving serious memory loss and terror, but I decided OFF is dark enough already and I want precious Zacharie to have a semi - happy ending.
> 
> Thank you all very, very much for your support and comments! I know I almost did not answer any of them, but I hope you guys know that they are very much appreciated and that I am grateful, nonetheless. It seemed better to make a huge thank you note like this one in the end!
> 
> I don't know whether I will be writing another OFF fic, but I do have a concept in mind. If I do get my butt into it, know that it will probably be shorter, less serious and dirtier (maybe also AU).
> 
> I will most likely write Welcome to Night Vale fics (as well), so if you are in that fandom maybe you wanna check them out (and if you're not you should get into it, it's a great free podcast available on iTunes and the internet). 
> 
> Thank you very much for staying with this fic and reading. You're awesome.
> 
> ~artisticNutcase
> 
> [EDIT]  
> 300+ Kudos!!  
> I can't believe this!
> 
> Thank you so much!


End file.
